THE young journalist met the physician’s gaze unflinching. Burke’s physical appearance was deceiving, but his indomitable spirit could be seen in his eyes.
Palermo recognized it. He realized that he was dealing with a man of purpose. For a moment a trace of anger came upon his features; then he suddenly softened, and seemed to express real interest in Burke’s words.
“Very well,” said Doctor Palermo, in an indulgent tone. “Tell me what you have ascertained regarding Horace Chatham.”
“Doctor Palermo,” said Burke, “I have met many men who have committed crimes. I have invariably found that they are either extremely hardened, or excessively emotional.
“If — as is well conceded — a murder was committed by Horace Chatham the night after he was here, it seems to me that you would have detected something in his manner that would have warned you.
“That has been covered in my statement to the police,” retorted Doctor Palermo. “Chatham was emotional that evening. But the inspiring motive of his emotion was money. He could talk of nothing else.
He was almost incoherent—”
“Yet,” interposed Burke, “it now appears that Chatham did not lack money. His finances were in reasonably good shape. If he killed Wilkinson for the sake of thirty thousand dollars, he was wasting his efforts.”
Doctor Palermo shrugged his shoulders. Burke was inwardly pleased. He had forced the physician into a position that made a quick reply impossible.
He waited for the doctor to speak. But Palermo artfully changed the subject.