"I was there on business, and in danger of being caught at it, at that.
Besides, I looked Cameron over, and thought he was out for the count
and nothing more. Why don't you ask that foxy-looking guy over there,"
pointing to Don Miguel, "what he done it for?"
Don Miguel glared at Scoby, but said nothing.
"He says Cameron was well and hearty when he went in there. Well,
Cameron wasn't well at all when he went in there, and I don't believe
there was anybody in there between us. You search him for a reason."
"Were the lights on when you went in there?" asked Nestor.
"Yes," was the reply.
"And you switched them off?"
Scoby nodded and glanced toward Felix,
"How long was it after you left the room that Fremont came up?"
Both men refused to make any definite statement as to this, and Nestor
saw that they were concealing something, that he had struck a feature
of the case upon which they had made no agreement as to what should be
told and what kept secret.
"These men are trying to put their crime on me," Don Miguel now said,
fury in his tone. "They know that I left Mr. Cameron working at his
desk. They were in the corridor and saw me pass down the elevator,
which was making its last trip at that moment. They were whispering
in a corner, in sight of the door to the Cameron suite. They took
advantage of circumstances to place the crime on me."
This was what Nestor was aiming at. The three men, the only ones there
that night, so far as he knew, were quarreling with each other.
Pages:
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132