“Well, woman, I can tell you now.”
Bristol Clara leaned forward, and Carter whispered a word into her ear.
“My God! you don’t mean that?” cried the woman, as she recoiled, with very little color in her face.
“Every word of it.”
“It cannot be.”
“It is true.”
“Then go and do your duty;” said she. “Don’t let the guilty escape, Mr. Carter.”
“I don’t intend to. I’ll see you later, Clara. Only keep a watch over the man in yonder. The murderer may come back. Perhaps it was self-defense, but he isn’t remorseful. It is murder all the same.”
The detective made his way from the house and to another part of the city. He had found in the desk a bit of paper, with a scrawled address thereon.
It was a certain number in Brooklyn, and inside the hour the detective was across the river.