“You didn’t remain long afterward,” observed Vance indolently.
“No—about a quarter of an hour. Arnesson was tired and wanted to turn in, so I went for a walk myself. On my return I took the bridle path instead of the Drive, and came on Professor Dillard and Drukker standing by the wall talking. Not wishing to appear rude, I stopped for a moment. But Drukker was in a beastly mood and made several sneering remarks. I turned and walked back to 79th Street, crossed the Drive, and came home.”
“I say; didn’t you loiter a bit by the wayside?”
“I sat down near the 79th-Street entrance and smoked a cigarette.”
For nearly half an hour Markham and Vance interrogated Pardee, but nothing more could be learned from him. As we came out into the street Arnesson hailed us from the front porch of the Dillard house and stalked forward to meet us.
“Just heard the sad news. Got home from the university a little while ago, and the professor told me you’d gone to rag Pardee. Learn anything?” Without waiting for an answer he ran on: “Frightful mess. I understand the entire Drukker family is wiped out. Well, well. And more story-book mumbo-jumbo to boot. . . . Any clews?”
“Ariadne has not yet favored us,” responded Vance. “Are you an ambassador from Crete?”
“One never knows. Bring out your questionnaire.”
Vance had led the way toward the wall gate, and we now stepped down on the range.
“We’ll repair to the Drukker house first,” he said. “There’ll be a number of things to settle. I suppose you’ll look after Drukker’s affairs and the funeral arrangements.”