“. . . not that Huldah would be any good if something did happen,” Corole was saying. “She would simply pull the covers over her head and shriek. But there’s Jim.” She added the last name grudgingly as if to say, “such as he is,” and lapsed into silence.
“I must get back to the hospital,” I said presently, not seeing that my presence was vital to Corole.
“I don’t suppose they have any idea as to what happened to the radium,” she observed casually as I arose.
“No. I don’t know what to think.”
“It would seem natural to believe that whoever killed Mr. Jackson and—er—Louis—did so in order to get the radium.”
“So it would seem,” I agreed. “For my part, I have not had time to speculate on possibilities. It is—too shocking.”
“Don’t you think that they will try to trace the radium?”
“I don’t think anything about it,” I replied caustically. Her interest in the radium annoyed me. I felt repelled at her callous lack of grief. Suppose she and Dr. Letheny had not been on the best of terms, nevertheless they were cousins and housemates.
“Well,” she kept on, “it all seems very strange. Didn’t you see or hear a thing while all that was going on?” Her catlike eyes, whose pupils shone large and flat and black in the semi-twilight, flickered over me with interest.
“No,” I said shortly. I did not relish being questioned by Corole Letheny. “If there is nothing I can do for you I am going.”