I turned my car, and drove as swiftly as I dared along Broadway, asking him, "Do you think that Cora Manning is in hiding because of that quarrel?"
He did not answer until we were skimming along the Drive. "No," he said quietly then, "I don't think so."
"Do you believe she killed Darwin?" I persisted.
"No, I don't. It was not a woman's job, but I do believe she can prove for us when he died," he answered. "And through her I hope to locate the criminal."
"If she is the woman in the case, she must be shielding the man or she would have come forward long ago to free Ruth," I pointed out.
"Or he may be holding her a prisoner because she knows too much for his peace of mind and body," he retorted. "That puts a different complexion on it."
"In that case he will murder her, too, before we can reach her," I said in a horrified voice.
"A man kills the woman he loves for only one reason, which does not exist in this case," he replied.
"Good heavens!" I said. "The criminal in love with Cora Manning! Then you mean that Lee killed his uncle?"
McKelvie shrugged. "That I can't presume to say. Perhaps it's Lee—perhaps it's another. Remember this. If Richard Trenton knew her, ten to one he was in love with her, too. I have seen her picture."