CHAPTER 9“But I heard you!” Dave insisted. “Early Sunday morning. You drove past my house.”
Ken Hurley answered impatiently. “You couldn’t have heard me. I’m always in bed by ten-thirty. That’s my rule.”
“Then someone was driving your truck. I recognized that little tune it plays.”
Hurley shook his head. “Every evening all trucks get turned in to the company garage. The garage is locked. There’s a watchman in the place all night.”
“But—?”
“Say, tell me something, will you? What’s everybody picking on me for, anyway? Lieutenant Morgan gave me the same line. I told him just what I’ve told you.” After a moment, he added coldly, “Sometimes, or so they tell me, people hear things that just aren’t there. Particularly when they’re under a strain.”
“Oh, for God’s sake!” Dave said, and turned
