17“But . . . what, Mrs. Stubblefield?” I asked.
She smoothed down the pleat of her gray print dress and brushed a little non-existent fluff from it before she raised her eyes to mine. They looked curiously cold to me just then, cold and rather calculating, as if she were wondering about me as I was most definitely beginning to wonder about her.
“Well, since you ask me that, Mrs. Latham, I’ll tell you,” she said deliberately. “Why did he take Joe Kramer with him when he went out last night? He knows Kramer is supposed to stay in the room next to my husband from the time he goes to bed until the time he wakes up. But Joe Kramer wasn’t there last night. I make a habit of checking on things concerning my husband, and he wasn’t there. Now where was he, do you suppose?”
“At what time?”
Mrs.
