“Jove!” he exclaimed. “Doctor Lukens murdered!”
PAGET stared with wide-open eyes as hastily perused the paragraphs below the headlines. He seemed to have forgotten his customary indifference.
He devoured the printed lines. Then he cast the newspaper to the floor. His face was sober as he stared at the detective.
“You were there,” Paget said solemnly. “You had the man. Why didn’t you hold him?”
“He knocked me out,” admitted the detective. “My men let him slip away. Nearly winged him when he jumped out of the window. Didn’t even see his face, though.”
“This is terrible news, Cardona,” Paget said slowly. “I hope you get the murderer!”
“You may be able to help,” responded the detective. “We’re after every bit of evidence that may lead to a clew.”
“Where was Oscar — the servant?”
“Out for the evening. So was Willis. Both have perfect alibis— checked.”
“I see. Then Lukens was alone.”