"Thank you. Here's your money. Drive quickly, Mr. Davies," McKelvie added in my ear as the man moved away. "If they think we have money they may try to get some of it for themselves."
I gave the car more gas and we were speeding round the corner before the man had more than joined his friends.
"Where did you get that picture of Dick? I do not recall having seen it before. It must be a recent one, for he looks older than I remember him."
"What picture of Dick?" he asked.
"The one you just showed Kite," I returned.
"Oh, that. I noticed it this morning when I examined the house, before your arrival, and that is what I went back to get after our adventure in the study to-night."
"Do you think the body will ever be recovered?" I asked as we turned into the Bowery from Catherine Street.
"No. It would be a very strange thing to recover a corpse that never existed," McKelvie responded grimly.
"A corpse that never existed," I repeated slowly and recalled my own doubts when Jones had first given me the news. "I understand. He was hardly likely to drown, since he could swim too well."
"Yes. Kite told us that plainly to-night. His words were: 'He flung his arms high and dove in,' which meant that he could dive; from which I deduced that he was probably a good swimmer. When a man who can swim, strikes the water his instinct is to swim, no matter how much he may want to drown. Besides, a suicide generally goes in feet first, not head first, for it takes a lot of skill to dive, even when you don't contemplate drowning," he replied, giving me his line of reasoning.