CHAPTER TWELVEReport
Clara and Mrs. Coldfield were playing rummy. When Gamadge appeared in the library doorway chairs went over backwards and a good many cards fell to the floor. Gamadge spoke over his wife’s head in mild surprise:
“I know I’m late, but it was the only chance I had to look these people over. What’s the excitement?”
“We were worried,” said Mrs. Coldfield briefly.
“Your telephone call was so non-committal,” said Clara, shaking him.
“It couldn’t sound reassuring, with a member of the family at my elbow. I wasn’t supposed to think they were a lot of gangsters,” protested Gamadge.
Clara stood away from him. “Are you hungry?”
“Not even thirsty—yet. They gave me a very nice dinner. I left your bags in the car, Mrs. Coldfield, in case you really were determined to check out
