She dismissed Yaker with a second gesture. “Was that call for Mister Lanerd?”
“For me,” I lied. “Let’s get back to Mrs. Lanerd. You’re not suggesting she murdered this Roffis in order to get in to see the Tildy gal?”
“Oh, no! I don’t know how to put it—”
“Put it straight.”
“I thought perhaps the guard, after hearing Marge threaten Miss Millett, offered to keep quiet about her and Dow — Mister Lanerd — if he, the guard, I mean, could—” She made a show of being confused.
“It doesn’t sound like the sort of thing a picked man from the Prosecutor’s office would try.” I had the feeling she was fumbling around for anything that might distract me from Lanerd. “You ever take tips from strangers?”
“Not generally.” She was wary.
“Make an exception.” I patted her arm to show no hard feelings. “A pack of bloodhounds’ll be sniffing all over this floor in a few minutes. If there’s anything here — stuff in the closets or bathroom, you know — anything that might cause Mister Lanerd — or his secretary — hm, embarrassment — be a good thing to see to it, hah?”
She relaxed enough to crinkle up her eyes. “You’re not my idea of a house dick at all.”
“That’s the trick. Not to be like one.” I squeezed her arm, went out.