“Sit down and make yourself at home,” I said, waving to the armchair.
She faced me. “What do you want?” she demanded angrily. Her cobalt blue eyes were dark and the lines of her mouth hard.
I took her arm and shoved her gently into the chair. “I want to talk to you,” I said and stood over her. “Ansell was murdered this afternoon. He was killed by a girl who’s impersonating Myra Shumway.”
“He was killed by Myra Shumway,” Lydia said softly. “Well, anyway that told me where we stood.
“Where is she?” I asked.
“With Mr. Kruger.”
“The other one’s with him too?”
“There’s no other one.”
“Oh yes there is,” I said grimly. “This talk’s off the record. Neither of us have witnesses and I want to get things clear.”
“There’s no other one,” she repeated.