The old man thought a moment before he replied. He was looking hard at the table, long fingers of one hand stretched out for inspection.
“On that, yes,” he said. “But not on Griffith!”
“Why not? Suppose I had croaked Jarnow, with no chance to lay it on any one? We’d still have a murder mystery hanging over us, wouldn’t we?”
“But Griffith being killed so soon afterward—”
“That fixes it right for us. There were plenty of other cases more important to Griffith than this one. The newspapers don’t connect the two at all. The bulls in Philly are still rounding up the local small fry.”
“Do you think Blair Windsor does?”
“No. Do you know what I believe? I have a hunch he lays the Jarnow murder to Henry Windsor.”
“He ought to know his brother well enough not to think that.”
“Perhaps. But you know I framed a smooth alibi before I left here, and we kept it between ourselves, even though we might have let others in on it.”
“Jerry might suspect it.”