Sandy repeated Ken’s last words in a sort of daze. “He’d been here before looking for the box?” He shook his head to clear it. “You mean the night your father got back? When the door was found open in the morning? You think Barrack was here then?”
Ken nodded. “Barrack or somebody involved with him. How else would he have known this address?”
Sandy shrugged. “He might have learned it in a hundred different ways. But suppose for a minute you’re right. In that case why would he come back here now? Why wouldn’t he avoid us?”
“He probably wanted to find out how much we know—or suspect,” Ken said.
“Well,” Sandy told him grimly, “you may suspect plenty. But even you don’t know anything.” He started briskly across the room. “He looked perfectly all right to me.” He picked up the phone book and
