The Cases of Susan Dare by Mignon G. Eberhart Page B

don’t you?”
    “Oh, yes, David. That’s what— he —said.”
    Lieutenant Mohrn cleared his throat abruptly and a bit uncomfortably.
    “She understands that, Wray. I don’t know why she won’t tell me. But she won’t. And she says she will talk to Miss Dare.”
    “Caroline,” said Jessica, “is a fool.” She moved rigidly to look at Caroline, who refused to meet her eyes, and said: “You’ll find Caroline’s got nothing to tell.”
    Caroline’s eyes went wildly to the floor, to the curtains, to David, and both her hands fluttered to her trembling mouth.
    “I’d rather talk to her,” she said.
    “Caroline,” said Jessica, “you are behaving irrationally. You have been like this for days. You brought this—this Susan Dare into the house. You lied to me about her—told me it was a daughter of a school friend. I might have known you had no such intimate friend!” She shot a dark look at Susan and swept back to Caroline. “Now you’ve told the police that you were afraid and that you telephoned to a perfect stranger—”
    “Jim Byrne,” fluttered Caroline. “His father and my father—”
    “That means nothing,” said Jessica harshly. “Don’t interrupt me. And then this young woman comes into our house. Why? Answer me, Caroline. Why?”
    “I—was afraid—”
    “Of what?”
    “I—I—” Caroline stood, motioning frantically with her hands—“I’ll tell. I’ll tell Miss Dare. She’ll know what to do.”
    “This is the situation, Miss Dare,” said Lieutenant Mohrn patiently. “Miss Caroline has admitted that she was alarmed about something and why you are here. She has also admitted that there was an urgent and pressing problem that was causing dissension in the household. But she’s—very tired, as you see—a little nervous, perhaps. And she says she is willing to tell, but that she prefers talking to you.” He smiled wearily. “At any rate (it’s asking a great deal of you), but will you hear what she has to tell? It’s—a whim, of course.” There was something friendly and kind in the look he gave Caroline. “But we’ll humor her. And she understands—”
    “I understand,” said Caroline with a flash of decision. “But I don’t want—anyone but Susan Dare.”
    “Nonsense, Caroline,” said Jessica, “I have a right to hear. So has David.”
    Caroline’s eyes, glancing this way and that to avoid Jessica, actually met Jessica’s gaze, and she succumbed at once.
    “Yes, Jessica,” she said obediently.
    “All right, then. Now, we are going outside, Miss Caroline. You can say anything you want to say. And remember we are here only to help.” Lieutenant Mohrn paused at the sliding door, and Susan saw a look flash between him and Jim Byrne. She also saw Jim Byrne’s hand go to his pocket and the brief little nod he gave the lieutenant.
    “Do you mind if I stay in the room but out of earshot, Miss Jessica?” Jim asked.
    “No,” Jessica agreed grudgingly.
    “We’ll be just outside,” said Lieutenant Mohrn, speaking to Jim. Something in his voice added: “Ready for any kind of trouble.” She saw, too, the look in Jim’s eyes as he glanced at her and then back to the lieutenant, and all at once she understood the meaning of that look and the meaning of his gesture toward his pocket. He had a revolver there, then. And the lieutenant was promising protection. But that meant that they were going to leave her alone with the Wrays. Alone with three people, one of whom was a murderer.
    But she was not entirely alone. Jim Byrne was there, in the far corner, his eyes wary and alert and his smile unperturbed.
    “Very well now, Caroline,” said Jessica. “Let’s hear your precious story.”
    “It’s about the house,” began Caroline, looking at Susan as if she dared not permit her glance to swerve. “The police dragged it out of me—”
    Jessica laughed harshly and interrupted.
    “So that’s your important evidence. I can tell it with less foolishness.