Ferris cocked his head. “Of course,” he said.
“Wasn’t the body warm?”
“Sure was. The man hadn’t been dead over thirty minutes.”
“That’s the way I figured it.”
If the man had been dead only half an hour and Hobe had been watching the old man during that very time, then to a certainty Jackson Kent had had no hand in the killing.
Still there was something unsaid between them. Ferris felt it. He put his hand on Johnny’s shoulder as they started for the door. Johnny stopped in his tracks. A flash of his eyes and the big man had his answer.
“Johnny!” he gasped. “No! My God, no! The old man didn’t do that!”
“Did I say so?” Johnny demanded vehemently.
“No. But y’u were thinkin’ it. Up in the room last night it was my idea, too. I wondered if y’d suspect him.”
Johnny could afford to be belligerent now.