“Very little. She was an acquaintance only. But many of her friends are above suspicion.”
“And the people where she took your sister?”
“I don’t know so much about them.” I stared at him in growing amazement. “But what could they have to do with it? You don’t mean to say that you think——”
“I don’t think anything. I’m asking questions. What did Mrs. Furneau’s chauffeur have to tell you?”
“Nothing more than she had to tell. He just corroborated the fact that Margaret had gone into the store.”
“H’m,” said the Chief. “But of course that doesn’t help much, one way or the other.”
“Do you mean to say you think it’s possible that Mrs. Furneau took the child to some house where she was kept a prisoner? And Mrs. Furneau invented all that business about the store? And her chauffeur was in it too?”
“I don’t know,” said the Chief. “But it’s a possible line of investigation, isn’t it? And it’s one that you haven’t touched? Now do you see where the Department might be of some help to you in your search?”
“But Mrs. Furneau—why, the Morrisons know her quite well. The thing’s out of the question.”
The Chief smiled slowly. “That’s the trouble with you amateurs. You go into an investigation like this with preconceived ideas—and all you look for is clews that fit in with those ideas. We suspect everybody until we can prove that they’ve had nothing to do with the affair. Do you see the difference?”