“You say you can’t explain how the paper came to be in Mr. Rhett’s desk?”
“My employer’s private life is none of my concern.”
“What do you mean—his private life?”
“Well, I hadn’t intended to tell you this,” Potts said unwillingly. “The truth is, Mr. Rhett was a strange man. He had queer interests and hobbies. I have been told he collects weird trophies of ancient cults.”
“Then this drawing probably has a connection with your employer’s hobby?”
“I wouldn’t know,” shrugged Potts. “If it weren’t for the handwriting, I might think someone had sent a warning to him. As it is, I’m completely in the dark.”
“Mr. Rhett had enemies?”
“He was a ruthless man and many persons disliked him. His friends were queer too. He preferred low class persons to people of culture and refinement. Why, only two days before his disappearance, he deliberately kept one of our largest stockholders waiting an hour while he chatted with a building porter! It was very humiliating! I had to tell Mrs. Biggs he was in conference, but I think she suspected the truth.”
“Do you have a photograph of Mr. Rhett?” the sergeant asked.
“I deeply regret I haven’t. For that matter, I never have seen a picture of him.”