“This is Mr. Daly and Dr. Bellowes, Mr. Storm.” Carr presented them smoothly. “Sorry to have brought you so far on a mere matter of form, gentlemen. I am prepared to issue a certificate of accidental death, but I should like to have you examine the body. This way, please; nothing has been touched.”
Storm rose as the physician turned to lead the others to the den, but the young man called Daly waved him back.
“Your presence won’t be necessary, Mr. Storm.” His tone was deferential, but there was a note of authority in it that brooked no opposition. “I will have to ask you a few questions later, but we won’t trouble you now.”
Storm bowed and waited until their footsteps diminished down the hall, and the door of the den closed definitely behind them, Then, with nervously clenching hands, he turned to the window. What a fool he was to harass himself with idle fears! Had not everything gone like clockwork, exactly as he had anticipated? He had been complete master of the situation so far, and he would be until the end. He must not, could not fail!
Old George would come soon, now. That had been a master stroke, that summoning of him! Besides being the natural, logical thing to have done under the circumstances, it provided a staunch, reliable buffer between himself and curious, sensation-seeking eyes. George’s dense stupidity and blind affection would be in itself a safeguard, and he anticipated no difficulty in dissembling before him. What if George had suspected or even known of Leila’s affair with Brewster? He would never dream that Storm himself had discovered it, much less that he had killed her.
What were the officials doing in there so long? Storm paced the floor restlessly. Surely the case was obvious enough; he couldn’t have overlooked anything, after all! Why didn’t they have done with it and get out of his house? He wanted time to think, a breathing space in which to prepare himself for the onslaught of neighbors and reporters when the truth came out.
As if timed to his thought, a familiar runabout which was passing halted at the gate just as it had on the previous day, and Millard, after gazing for a moment in blank amazement at the official car drawn up at the veranda steps, descended and came hurriedly up the path.
Storm saw him from the window and muttered in exasperation. To be annoyed now by that he-gossip was unthinkable! He’d soon send him about his business——!
He caught himself up suddenly. This was the moment for him to court sympathy, not brusquely repel it and awaken an antagonism which might beget dark rumor and suspicion. He hurried to the door, and when Millard puffed fussily up the steps of the veranda he found his host awaiting him with outstretched hands.
“Millard! It was good of you to stop. I hoped you would when I saw you passing.”