“Miss Ogden,” he said, still with that hidden threat in his voice, “in the last minute or so the Union Bank case and certain things in this house have begun to tie up pretty close together. Bailey disappeared this morning. Have you heard from him since?”
Her eyes met his without weakening, her voice was cool and composed.
“No.”
The detective did not comment on her answer. She could not tell from his face whether he thought she had told the truth or lied. He turned away from her brusquely.
“I’ll ask you to bring Miss Van Gorder here,” he said in his professional voice.
“Why do you want her?” Dale blazed at him rebelliously.
He was quiet. “Because this case is taking on a new phase.”
“You don’t think I know anything about that money?” she said, a little wildly, hoping that a display of sham anger might throw him off the trail he seemed to be following.
He seemed to accept her words, cynically, at their face value.
“No,” he said, “but you know somebody who does.” Dale hesitated, sought for a biting retort, found none. It did not matter; any respite, no matter how momentary, from these probing questions, would be a relief. She silently took one of the lighted candles and left the living-room to search for her aunt.