Lucy watched the officer make a superficial search of the room. It gave her a feeling of satisfaction when he didn’t find anything.
He stopped beside the bed after finishing. “We’ll be going along now,” he said awkwardly to the sobbing widow. “Lock your door on the inside, and you’ll be safe enough.” She nodded her head vigorously but didn’t reply.
He stepped over to Lucy, took her arm officiously, and led her out, saying, “I hope it was just a mistake like you said, miss, but when it’s murder, a man in my position can’t afford to take anything for granted.”
Lucy caught her breath inaudibly. “Murder?”
“That lady’s husband. She was all broke up about it when she had to make identification of his body.”
“How awful!” Lucy exclaimed instinctively.
It was murder, and Michael was somehow involved in it. If only he had told her something of what it was all about! But he didn’t, and it was up to her to play it by ear and make up the melody as she went along.
She had no idea of the consequences that might result if the police learned her reason for being in Mrs. Carrol’s room. They would know, of course, that Michael had sent her there.
She was in a desperate quandary as the elevator descended. Once she faced the clerk at the desk, and he told his story, she knew that the policeman, who had her by the arm, would insist upon taking her before Will Gentry to explain her presence in the room, and this might be extremely bad for Michael.
There was no way in the world she could avoid arrest. But if she could remain unidentified, for a time, at least, while she was locked up on some charge that had nothing at all to do with murder, it might give Mike a break. When the elevator reached the ground floor, and they stepped out, she grasped the officer’s sleeve, drew him aside, and said plaintively, “All right, then. I’ll tell you the truth. I tried to bluff you, but you were too smart to fall for it.”