“And killed him there? Murderer!”
That instant, with the fury of a madman, Claude turned upon his sister and covered her white face with his quivering hand.
“Murderer, eh? What are you? Don’t you know that the curse of blood has been upon this house for years? The curse of blood and money! Nearly a century ago one of your ancestors murdered his bride, and ever since the stain has been upon the house. It has skipped a few generations, but it is with us now. Richmond and I have kept your red secret. We know who killed Mother Flintstone. Does the detective know?”
“He knows,” calmly answered Opal.
“And does he know that the girl called Margie Marne is the grandchild of Mother Flintstone?”
Nick nodded.
“That’s all.”
Claude Lamont turned and stalked coolly from the room.
At the door he stopped and looked back.
“I’ll be on hand when wanted,” he said. “It was self-defense. I had to take the old man’s life.”