“Hello!” his voice sounded over the wire.
Judy glanced at Jasper Crosby who stood near the desk. He was watching her like a cat.
“Hello! Miss Grimshaw? This is Judy. Jasper Crosby is here.”
“Who? What?” Peter sputtered.
“Jasper Crosby. He’s here in the office. He wants to know what happened to the poetry. Will you come right over?”
There followed a moment of silence. Jasper’s eyes seemed to be taking an X-ray picture of Judy’s mind. She felt that he must know she had not been talking to her employer. Then Peter’s voice, lowered and tense, “You bet your life I’ll come right over. And I’ll have the whole police force with me. Brave little Judy!”
She replaced the receiver and turned to Jasper Crosby.
“She’ll be right over. Will you wait?”
“Wait nothing,” he muttered. “Why should I wait? Say, who was that you were talking to then?”
“Emily Grimshaw,” Judy lied gallantly.