“I have been charged with murder, Mr. Carter,� she said. “I have been tried by a jury of twelve men, and they have found me guiltless. Is there anything now that you can do to me?�
“No—unless you commit, or aid in the commission of another murder, madam.â€�
“If I should do that,â€� she replied slowly, evidently weighing and measuring her words as she uttered them, “it will scarcely be you who will hunt me down for it, for you——â€� she stopped, still smiling, her eyes still burning.
The detective shrugged.
“You mean to suggest that if you should commit such another crime, I would be the victim of it, I suppose?� he said coolly.
“Did I say that?� she exclaimed, laughing aloud this time. “How you do persist in misunderstanding me. Really.�
“Madam, the door is behind you; your hand is upon the knob.�
“I will make use of both, presently, thank you; but I have something more to say to you before I do so.�
“Well?�
“You have advertised widely and largely—you and a lawyer named Benjamin Oaks—for information concerning a certain young man, Carleton Lynne by name. Suppose that I could supply you with the address of that person, Mr. Carter? Would the information be worth a substantial recompense?â€�