"Who?"
"Her," said I. And with that he gave my arm another jerk.
"Listen," said he, like a tiger. "Don't try that on me. It won't do any good—that kind of lies—not where you're going to. Fedderson and his wife, too—the both of 'em's drowned deader 'n a door-nail."
"I know," said I, nodding my head. I was so calm it made him wild.
"You're crazy! Crazy as a loon, Johnson!" And he was chewing his lip red. "I know, because it was me that found the old man laying on Back Water Flats yesterday morning—me! And she'd been with him in the boat, too, because he had a piece of her jacket tore off, tangled in his arm."
"I know," said I, nodding again, like that.
"You know what, you crazy, murdering fool?" Those were his words to me, sir.
"I know," said I, "what I know."
"And I know," said he, "what I know."
And there you are, sir. He's Inspector. I'm—nobody.