"That could have been faked—it might have been a dodge to impress you."
"I don't see how it could have been, Dad. You see, I met Betty Davis quite by accident that evening. On the spur of the moment I accepted her invitation to stop a few minutes at the house. It was while I was there that the message was thrown through the window. It couldn't have been planned."
"Not very well," Mr. Nichols admitted. "Davis may be honest enough, but if I find he's a loose talker, his usefulness for me will be ended."
The sedan had reached the dead-end street which led to the vacant Hamilton Plant. An officer stepped out of the shadow to challenge Mr. Nichols, but recognizing him, saluted instead.
"What luck?" the detective asked.
"I can't tell you, sir. I've heard nothing since I was stationed here."
Penny and her father drove on between the rows of police cars which lined the narrow street. As they halted at the far end of the thoroughfare, an officer came to speak with them.
"Did you get into the building?" Mr. Nichols inquired tersely.
"Yes, your daughter's instructions were very clear. We had no trouble."
"What did you find?"