Heath contemplated him with shrewdly appraising eyes. Something in Vance’s tone had apparently piqued his curiosity and set him to wondering. Vance had too often been right in his diagnoses of persons and things for the Sergeant to ignore his opinions wholly.
But before he could answer, Swacker stepped alertly into the room, his eyes animated.
“Tony Skeel’s on the wire, Chief, and wants to speak to you.”
Markham, despite his habitual reserve, gave a start.
“Here, Sergeant,” he said quickly. “Take that extension phone on the table and listen in.” He nodded curtly to Swacker, who disappeared to make the connection. Then he took up the receiver of his own telephone and spoke to Skeel.
For a minute or so he listened. Then, after a brief argument, he concurred with some suggestion that had evidently been made; and the conversation ended.
“Skeel craves an audience, I gather,” said Vance. “I’ve rather been expecting it, y’ know.”
“Yes. He’s coming here to-morrow at ten.”
“And he hinted that he knew who slew the Canary—eh, what?”
“That’s just what he did say. He promised to tell me the whole story to-morrow morning.”