“Yes,” I replied. “They suspect his visitor; and they have discovered that this mysterious person who came to see him immediately before his death was a woman!”
Her lips compressed until they became white and bloodless, and the light died from her countenance. She tried to speak, but her tongue refused to utter sound, and she covered her confusion by placing her teacup upon the table.
“Have they found out who it was who called upon him?” she inquired at last, in a low, faltering voice.
“They have a strong suspicion,” I said firmly. “And they are resolved that the one responsible for his death shall be brought to justice.”
“There is no proof that he was murdered,” she declared quickly.
“Neither is there any proof that he died from natural causes,” I argued. Then I added, “Was it not strange, Aline, that you should actually have told me of my friend’s death on the very morning that he died?”
“It was certainly a very remarkable coincidence,” she faltered; after a pause adding: “If he has been murdered, as you suspect, I hope the police will not fail to discover the author of the crime.”
“But you declared that Roddy was already dead!” I cried, dumbfounded.
“Certainly!” she answered. “I still maintain the truth of my statement.”
“Then you do not believe he was murdered?”