She gave Vance a look of frightened appeal.
“Mrs. Menzel, Sergeant,” he said, “had no intention of obstructing justice. And now that she has told us the truth, I think we may overlook her perfectly natural deception in the matter.” Then before Heath had time to reply he turned to the woman and asked in a matter-of-fact tone: “Do you lock the door leading to the screen porch every night?”
“Ja—every night.” She spoke listlessly: the reaction from her fright had left her apathetic.
“You are sure you locked it last night?”
“At half past nine—when I went to bed.”
Vance stepped across the little passageway and inspected the lock.
“It’s a snap-lock,” he observed, on returning. “Who has a key to the door?”
“I have a key. And Mrs. Drukker—she has one, too.”
“You’re sure no one else has a key?”
“No one except Miss Dillard. . . .”