“There were no other unusual circumstances? Nothing out of the ordinary?”
“Why, yes. There was someone—a man——” I broke off abruptly. That man must have been Jim Gainsay. I had no wish to involve him in the matter, at least until I became convinced that his movements should be investigated.
But Lance O’Leary’s gray eyes looked straight through to my back hair.
“Yes?” he inquired.
“Yes.” I spoke with an accent of finality, and gazed nonchalantly out the window as if the subject were closed.
“Where was he?”
“Running around the hospital,” I replied curtly, wishing I had held my tongue.
“Around and around?” inquired O’Leary blandly.
“No,” I snapped. “Running along the east side of the wing. I—he—we collided.”
O’Leary sat up straighter.