“I was driving near the bridge at the time the man was pushed into the water,” Penny resumed.
“You didn’t see the one who did it?”
“Not clearly. May I ask why you are so interested in the story?”
“I thought maybe I knew that man, Munn. What became of him?”
“I can’t tell you that. He was rescued by a tugboat captain. Everything I know about the affair is in the story.”
“Well, thank you kindly,” Mr. Fenestra said, tipping his hat.
Penny watched him leave the office and walk to his car. She had never seen the man before to her knowledge. Although she should have felt flattered by his visit, it left her with a vague, unexplainable sensation of distrust.
“There’s something queer about the way he came here,” she reflected. “Perhaps he knows more than he pretended.”
Penny soon dismissed the matter from her mind, turning her thoughts to the problem of the missing lunch. Resolutely she made a tour of the building, venturing everywhere save into the basement. As she had half expected, she found no one. However, returning once more to her work, she occasionally caught herself listening for footsteps.
At three-thirty Louise came from school with other members of the Times staff. She and Penny retired to the latter’s private office there to discuss plans for the next week’s paper.