“What?” She gazed at him astounded. “Why not?”
“Because you are the last person known to have seen Paul Abbott alive,” he pointed out slowly. “And your statements regarding the events of Monday night are unsubstantiated.”
Miriam stared at him as if unable to believe her ears. “Do you insinuate I lied?” she demanded.
Trenholm’s hand on his horse’s rein tightened until the knuckles shone white, but his glance did not waver.
“It is not a question of my opinion one way or the other,” he said sternly. “You are our chief witness, and as sheriff of Prince Georges County, I cannot permit you to leave Abbott’s Lodge.”
Miriam regarded him intently. “So that is your attitude,” she said, finally. “I am glad to have it defined. You have, at least,” with a ghost of a smile, “been honest with me.”
“Thank you!” Trenholm drew a step nearer. “Your reasonable acceptance of the situation encourages me to ask a personal question.”
“Yes?” she prompted, as he paused. “Well?”
“What is your interest in the black seal?”
Miriam stared at him, thunderstruck. “The black seal?” she repeated.