“Certainly, Ted.” Kitty put her foot on the self-starter. “I am only too thankful to give it to you and to have you, dear, to confide in.” He returned her warm handclasp with a grip that hurt. “But, Ted, how is it that Mrs. Parsons knows that the police are watching Leigh?”
“The police?” echoed Rodgers. “Oh, ah, yes. Perhaps she has had another call from Inspector Mitchell; I saw him coming away from there yesterday.”
“But why in the world should he confide in Mrs. Parsons?”
“I don’t know—” Rodgers was frowning in the darkness, and Kitty, intent on starting the car, did not notice the alteration in his voice. “I don’t know why any one puts trust in Mrs. Parsons.”
“Why, Ted!” Kitty looked at him in surprise. “I never knew you disliked Mrs. Parsons.”
“I have no use for her,” he admitted. “I never did like cats—even your Mouchette.”
“Imagine putting Mrs. Parsons in a class with Mouchette,” Kitty chuckled, then grew grave. “Ted, you don’t suppose, really suppose, that Leigh could have killed Aunt Susan, a defenceless old lady.”
“With a serpent’s tongue.” The words were no sooner spoken than Rodgers regretted them. “Forgive me, darling—”
“I know poor Aunt Susan was not loved—.” A sigh escaped Kitty. “Can it be that Aunt Susan quarreled with Leigh over his father’s treatment of her—”