“Not too nice, Mrs. Graham?”
She shook her head.
“Not at all! To tell you the truth I was a little afraid he might be. But he was just nice and very interesting about all sorts of things.”
“He didn’t tell you anything that might give us a clue to his murderer, did he?”
“He—he just talked about his early days—” she stammered, “—about pioneering and mining and newspaper work. What—what could he tell me?”
Bernard smiled.
“An enemy?”
“No. He didn’t say anything about having an enemy!”
“I suppose you have no idea who killed him?”
“Why, no, Mr. Bernard! How should I? It couldn’t have been anyone in the house, of course.”