“Kill him? My dear young lady, I merely want him to fiddle for me,” said Karlov with another smile.
“You tried to kill him,” insisted Kitty, the dryness beginning to leave her throat.
“Bungling agents. Do know what became of them—the two who invaded your bedroom?”
“They were taken away the police.”
“So I thought. What became of the wallet?”
“I found it hidden on the back of my stove.”
“I never thought to look there,” said Karlov, musingly. “Who has the drums?”
“The emeralds? You haven't them!” cried Kitty, becoming her mother's daughter, though her heart never beat so thunderously as now. “We thought you had them!”
Karlov stared at her, moodily. “What is that button for, at the side of your bed?”
Kitty comprehended the working of the mind that formulated this question. If she answered truthfully he would accept her statements. “It rings an alarm in the basement.”