CHAPTER 7WHEN the face coming toward him in the dark said, “I’m Caroline Winship,” Dan McGrath was startled again by the quiet menace that he felt in those simple words. “This is my house. Why are you spying on it? What is it you want? What are you after?”
He was surprised to find his own voice steady. “Nothing whatever, Miss Winship. I was just coming by. I saw somebody on the stairs there. It seemed a funny place for anybody to—”
“I understand that you know my brother-in-law?”
“Miss Winship—” He stopped, trying to think how to make her believe him. She was close to him; he could smell the faint odor of some dry scent that reminded him of an aunt of his father’s who thought once a year was enough to air her closets. Her head was trembling, almost with a palsied shake. Whether it was pa
