“There is nothing more for you to help me with now,” he said. “We just found Dr. Letheny’s body this afternoon when we pried the closet door off its hinges. I examined everything at once, called the ambulance, and now the room can be cleaned and used again. The only reminder you will have of all this, I hope, is that I shall likely be about more or less for a few days—or longer. That depends upon the luck I have.” He smiled again. Evidently he was trying to be as considerate as possible and I found myself liking him. “Of course, there will have to be a coroner’s inquest, but that is merely a matter of form and need not annoy you. That is all now, thank you, Miss Keate. Can’t you take some rest? Do you have night duty again to-night?”
“Yes,” I answered the last question. “Mr. O’Leary, do you have any idea as to who—who has done this?”
His face sobered instantly.
“No,” he said simply. “Will you help me find out?”
“Yes.” I spoke very thoughtfully. “It is only right and just to do so.”
“Thank you.” He seemed sincere. “You may be interested to know that you have helped me already.”
“Helped you! How? There was nothing I told you——”
“I’ll see you again, Miss Keate. By the way, I am leaving one or two policemen about to-night. It may help to steady some of the nerves in St. Ann’s.” He opened the door and before I knew it I was in the main hall with my question still unanswered.
I still felt ill and weak from shock, and it was fortunate that the exigencies of the situation demanded action. That was the only saving feature of these fearful days; we were all so busy that we had little time for brooding.
The news could not be kept from the nursing staff, of course, though I hoped that we could keep it from the patients, many of whom had been directly under Dr. Letheny’s care. And there was Corole—in common decency I must go to her.