"She has had enough—" broke in Garry Gresham. "She's been through hell since—that night."
"I'm afraid, though—"
"Mr. Carroll—you can call it off, if you will." Hazel Gresham rose and paced the room. "The case is in your hands. You can gain nothing by finding the person who committed the—the—deed. Let's drop it. Do me that favor, won't you? Let's consider the whole thing at an end!"
David Carroll was puzzled. But he was honest—"I'm afraid I cannot, Miss
Gresham. I must, at least, try to solve it."
She paused before him: figure tensed—
"Then let me say, Mr. Carroll—that I hope you fail!"
CHAPTER XVI
THE WOMAN IN THE TAXI
From the Gresham home, David Carroll went straight to headquarters. Developments had been tumbling over each other so fast that he found himself unable to sort them properly. He wanted to talk the thing over with someone, to place each new lead in the investigation under the microscope in an attempt to discern its true value in relation to the killing of Roland Warren.
Eric Leverage was the one man to whom he could talk. And, locked in the Chief's office, he told all that he knew about the case, detailing conversations, explaining the situation as he understood it, reserving his suspicions and watching keenly for the reaction on the stolid mind of the plodding, practical Chief.