John Hale looked dubiously at Latimer and the latter nodded his encouragement. “Go ahead, tell him the whole story,” he advised. “It’s worse to keep him in suspense.”
“Austin died on Tuesday night,” John Hale stated, choosing his words with care, “to be exact, some time on Wednesday morning. He was stabbed to death.”
“Stabbed!” Hale’s hand stole toward the flask, then was withdrawn. “Stabbed by whom?”
“We don’t know.”
“Oh!” Robert Hale’s color was returning slowly. “Where was Austin murdered?”
“Here.”
“Here?” The repetition was parrotlike.
“Yes, here.” Ferguson took a step forward and for the first time joined in the conversation.
Hale turned and regarded him in silence, then looked inquiringly at Latimer.
“This is Detective Ferguson of the Central Office,” he explained. “He is detailed to investigate the mystery surrounding Austin’s death.”