“I don’t understand it,” Harley Kent said, still startled.
The doctor asked an abrupt question. “How high is that safe from the floor?”
“Six feet, eight inches.”
“To work the combination without straining a short man would have to stand upon a chair.”
“Exactly, Doctor. None of the chairs was disturbed; none of the cushions trampled. I checked that with the maid.”
Dr. Stone’s face was impassive. “I gather that means something to you?”
“What would it mean to you if I told you Donovan was a tall man?”
The doctor’s sightless eyes were fixed straight ahead as though he saw something that was denied to other men. “Does Donovan know he’s suspected?”
“He isn’t quite a fool.”
A man passed quickly through the hall. Donovan! Joe instinctively stepped closer to the dog. And suddenly, under his feet, the floor boards creaked with a loud, harsh, dry protest.