A pull at the knob told him it was locked. He took a magnifying lens from his kit and carefully examined the surface. Then, with a shake of the head signifying he had found no finger prints, he crooked his index finger at the housekeeper. She advanced reluctantly, and Culligore studied her with a sidelong glance.
“You needn’t talk unless you want to,” he said gently. “The department isn’t offering you any immunity. We’ve known for some time that Gage was running a fence, though we never got the goods on him.”
The woman, standing in a crouching attitude and studiously avoiding Culligore’s gaze, swept a tress of moist gray hair from her forehead.
“We’ve also suspected that you have been in cahoots with him,” continued the lieutenant in casual tones. “Oh, don’t get scared. We won’t go into that just now. All I want is that we understand each other.”
The woman raised her head and looked straight at Officer Pinto, and there was a hint of dread in her eyes as their glances met. A puzzled frown crossed Culligore’s face as he noticed the strange exchange of glances; then he pointed to the safe.
“Know how to open it?”
The housekeeper shook her head. “Mr. Gage kept only cheap junk in it, anyhow. All he used it for was a blind.”
“A blind?”
“He had to keep a lot of valuables in the house all the time, and he was always afraid of burglars. He kept a lot of phony stuff in the safe, thinking if burglars found it they might be fooled and not look any further.”
“Ah! Not a bad idea. Where did he keep the real stuff?”