The young man who had been supporting the woman’s head had relinquished his burden, and just as Nick came up he was edging away through the crowd. He seemed to desire to escape further observation.
Nick touched him on the arm, and the young man faced about.
“Don’t try to get away,” said the detective. “You won’t help matters by that.”
“Why shouldn’t I go away?”
“Because,” said Nick, calmly, “you will direct suspicion toward yourself.”
“Suspicion! Suspicion of what?”
“Murder!” replied the detective, in a low, steady voice.
This sinister word produced a tremendous effect upon the young man. But he came out of it in a way which showed he had plenty of nerve.
Nick had drawn him into a doorway, and the two were almost unobserved.
“Look here,” said the young man, “I’m no fool, and I begin to see that something is wrong here. But when it comes to murder, I don’t believe you’re right. That lady isn’t very sick.”