"No matter. I didn't come to argue with you about that. I was curious to know if you'd tried to see your grandfather's body."
Bobby shook his head.
"I took it for granted the room was locked."
"Yes," the detective answered, "but some people, it seems, have skilful ways of overcoming locks."
He moved to one side, placing his hand on the door knob.
"I've come to open doors for you, to give you the opportunity an affectionate grandson must crave."
Bobby hesitated, fighting back his feeling of repulsion, his first instinct to refuse. The detective might take it as an evidence against him. On the other hand, if he went, the man would unquestionably try to tear from a meeting between the living and the dead some valuable confirmation of his theory.
"Well?" the detective said. "What's the matter? Thought the least I could do was to give you a chance. Wouldn't do it for everybody. Then everybody hasn't your affectionate nature."
Bobby advanced.
"For God's sake, stop mocking me. I'll go, since you wish."