“In suspecting Kate Crandall of[Pg 28]——”
“Stop a moment,” Nick interrupted. “Who are you, anyway?”
The question brought a sharper gleam into the eyes back of the gold-bowed glasses, but it waned almost instantly, for the detective’s tone and scrutiny evinced no definite suspicion.
“My name is Jack Conroy.”
“Jack Conroy, eh?”
“That’s what.”
“Where do you live? How could you enter this house?”
“I board here, have boarded here for weeks,” Conroy promptly asserted. “That’s why I could enter. I have a key to both doors.”
“That’s true, Mr. Carter, on my word,” Kate Crandall put in.
“I already have told you what I think your word is worth,” said Nick, with a quick glance at her.