“Just answer my questions. Age?”
“Forty — ah — six. I don’t see—”
“Occupation?” Quinlan scribbled on the pad without looking up.
“Broker. Ah — retired. I assure you, Captain—”
“Address?”
“New York. That is, the Angelus Hotel at present.”
“You were acquainted with the deceased?”
“Of course. I’ve told you—”
“When did you last see her alive?” Quinlan’s questioning continued, even and dispassionate.
“I — not for months. I tell you, Captain, this is absurd.”