“Have you any idea where Senator Carew dined the night of his death?”
“Not the slightest,” was the positive reply.
“Was it your brother’s custom not to inform you where he was dining?” asked Brett.
“Stop a moment,” Thornton held up a protesting hand. “Mrs. Winthrop, you cannot be compelled to answer questions put to you by Mr. Brett; he has no legal right to examine you now.”
“I am quite aware of that, Colonel Thornton,” put in Brett composedly; “I am asking these questions that I may gain a little more light on this mystery. I only saw Mrs. Winthrop for a short time yesterday, and, while I do not wish to intrude, I feel that I can accomplish better results by a longer talk. This tragedy must be investigated thoroughly.”
“Very true; but you forget, Mr. Brett, that the inquest is the proper place for bringing out testimony. Mrs. Winthrop will have to appear before it, and, until that is held, she must not be pestered with questions or harrowed by intrusions.”
“I am willing to answer all questions within reason,” said Mrs. Winthrop, before the detective could reply. “If you mean, Mr. Brett, that Senator Carew was secretive about his movements, you are mistaken. On the contrary, he was most open and above board in his dealings with me. Occasionally, when hurried, he did not tell me his plans for the day, but, as a general thing, I knew all his social engagements.”
“Ah, his social engagements,” echoed Brett, “how about his official engagements, Mrs. Winthrop?”
“With those I had nothing to do. I never meddled in my brother’s political or official career; that was out of my province,” was the calm reply.