Why, did she know Stauffer to be a liar?
No, but she didn’t like his mouth, or his eyes either, and she wouldn’t trust him.
Wolfe’s brows went up a little. “Am I to assume, Miss Dunn, that you think Mr. Stauffer stole your camera?”
She shook her head. “I wouldn’t expect you to assume anything. I thought detectives didn’t assume, I thought they deduced.”
Wolfe grunted. “They do if they can. They try. Anyhow, I doubt if your dislike for Mr. Stauffer’s mouth and eyes will convict him of anything.” He glanced up at the clock, which said a quarter past one. “Let’s try another path briefly before we have lunch. You say the two rolls of film in the suitcase had not been exposed. Then if what the thief was after was exposed film, he presumably took those two cartons on a chance, being in too much of a hurry to investigate there in your bedroom. And the only exposed film he got was the one that was still in the camera.”
Sara shook her head again. “He didn’t get any at all. There was none in the camera.”
Wolfe frowned. “You said that the picture you took in this office Friday afternoon finished a roll, and that that roll was in the camera when you put it in the bedroom.”
“I know I did. But you didn’t let me go on. I removed the film from the camera Friday evening and took it to a drugstore to be developed. That was when I bought the two rolls—”
“Confound it,” Wolfe snapped, “where are they?”
“Where are what?”