“My idea, too,” Landis agreed. “We’ll hang around here tomorrow, see if we can trace Cuddy and get a description of him. Monday morning we’ll attend the inquest together, if you like. Monday afternoon I’m going to look up Cuddy on Long Island and see where he fits in. He’ll need an alibi for seven-thirty this evening or he’s suspect!”
Bernard nodded.
“I’ll stay in the city. I want to look up the records of Allen and Russell—get their financial ratings. I want to know where Harrison went last Monday and today. I’ll have a look at his will, too.”
Catching a movement in the hall, Landis stepped to the doorway. Stimson was in the act of admitting the relief of police, his manner stiff and remote.
Landis told off two men to patrol the grounds, set the third to watch Harrison’s body and was conducting Sergeant Forbes and his man to the front door when Isabelle drifted into the hall from the drawing-room.
He closed the front door on the departing police and turned to her.
“Looking for me?”
“Sort of,” she smiled heavily.
“Come into the library where it’s warmer, won’t you?”