He laughed with her but she wasn’t certain that he was fooled. “You weren’t asleep when Mr. Satterlee came home Wednesday night?”
“No.” She amended, “I was but his coming woke me. It was midnight.” She waited stiffly for what was to come.
“Didn’t go out again, did he?”
She couldn’t lie. That was how criminals were trapped, separate stories that didn’t agree. He might reach Con before she did, learn the truth. She had hesitated; now she answered. “Yes, he did. Someone phoned him.” She pushed time forward frantically. “It was at least one-thirty before he left. He couldn’t have done anything to that girl.” She begged him to understand. “He wouldn’t kill anyone, Captain Thusby. He isn’t that kind of a man. Even if he were, he couldn’t have done it. He was with me from twelve to one-thirty.
