“But what’s the big idea?” Floyd repeated, staring steadily at Nick. “Why are you seeking information about a dead man? Is there anything wrong with his record?”
“That’s what I wish to learn.”
“Who put you on the job?”
“His wife.”
“Why so? Why has she gone up in the air? What does she suspect?” Floyd glibly inquired.
“It does not much matter what she thinks,” Nick slowly answered. “That’s neither here nor there at this stage of the game.”
“Humph! Is that so?”
“What I suspect is much more material. I came here to ask a few questions, Mr. Floyd, not to answer a string of inquiries from you. Please bear that in mind.”
Nick’s voice had taken on a subtle and somewhat threatening ring. He gazed at his hearers with a sharper gleam in his impressive eyes. He saw Floyd frown quickly, while Sheldon’s bearded face grew quite haggard and ghastly in the greenish light cast upon it through the drooping silk shade.
“Bear it in mind, eh?” Floyd curtly questioned.