“You kept them!” he gasped. “You had the nerve—”
Her scornful expression checked him. “Comment is unnecessary,” she said. “Take the letters and destroy them.”
Wallace’s uncomprehending stare frightened her. Was his old failing upon him—had he been drinking? For a long minute they regarded each other. Slowly he put out his hand, took the package, and without a glance at them or at her turned and walked away.
Inspector Mitchell left Charles Craige to enter “Rose Hill” alone.
“I’ll be in shortly,” he exclaimed. “Wait until I get there.” And, not waiting to hear even if Craige made an answer, the Inspector headed for the house adjoining the Baird mansion on the east. Craige paused a second to give an order to his chauffeur, then mounted the long steps to the vestibule where Mandy stood awaiting his arrival.
“I done see’d yo’ comin’,” she remarked, closing the door with a bang. “Go right in de lib’ry, Mister Charles. I’ll tell Miss Kitty yo’ am hyar jes’ as soon as my gran’son gets back from the sto’.” And Mandy resumed her place in the parlor window from whence she could obtain an unobstructed view up and down Q Street.
Craige’s heavy footsteps did not cause a man, standing in front of the open Dutch door in the library, to turn around, so fixed was his attention on the view into the garden. Craige paused just over the threshold of the library door.