“Yes.” Flora’s eyes were wet but she hadn’t used a handkerchief. “I wanted to go and see what had happened to Sarah, but I was afraid — I didn’t know—”
“It’s a good thing you didn’t, madam. I also learned from Mr. Cramer that you, Mr. Gallant, you, Mr. Drew, and you, Miss Prince, were also constantly under surveillance, for hours, from the time the police arrived. That leaves you, Miss Thorne.” His eyes were narrowed at her. “You were with three men in an office on Forty-sixth Street from eleven-twenty until a quarter to twelve. You arrived at Mr. Gallant’s place, and found the police there, shortly before three o’clock. You may be able to account for the interim satisfactorily. Do you want to try?”
“I don’t have to try.” Emmy Thorne’s gray eyes were not as cool and keen as they had been when she had told me I didn’t have to climb a tree. She had to blink to keep them at Wolfe. “So it is a game.”
“Not one you’ll enjoy, I fear. Nor will I; I’m out of it now. To disclose your acquisition of the cyanide you would need for Sarah Yare; to show that you entered Bianca Voss’s room yesterday morning, or could have, before you left for your business appointment; to find evidence of your visit to Thirteenth Street after your business appointment; to decide which homicide you will be put on trial for — all that is for others. You must see now that it was a mistake — Archie!”
I was up and moving, but halted. Gallant, out of his chair and advancing, wasn’t going to touch her. His fists were doubled, but not to swing; they were pressed against his chest. He stopped square in front of her and commanded, “Look at me, Emmy.”
To do so she would have had to move her head, tilt it back, and she moved nothing.
“I have loved you,” he said. “Did you kill Sarah?”
Her lips moved but no sound came.
His fists opened for his fingers to spread on his chest. “So you heard us that day, and you knew I couldn’t marry you because I was married to her, and you killed her. That I can understand, for I loved you. But that you killed Sarah, no. No! And even that is not the worst! Today, when I told you and the others what Flora had told me, you accepted it, you allowed us to accept it, that she had killed Bianca. You would have let her suffer for it. Look at me! You would have let my sister—”
Flora was there, tugging at his sleeve, sputtering at him, “You love her, Alec, don’t hurt her now, don’t—”
Gallant jerked loose, backed up, folded his arms, and breathed; and Emmy Thorne moved. She came up out of her chair, stood rigid long enough to give Gallant a straight, hard look, shook her head, spun away from him, and headed for the door, brushing against Flora. Her route took her past Anita Prince, who tilted her head back to look up at her, and past Carl Drew, who had to pull his feet back not to trip her.
I didn’t budge, thinking I wasn’t needed, and I was right. In movement she might have been music, but if so, the music got stopped. As she made the hall and turned toward the front a hand gripped her arm — a hand that had had plenty of practice gripping arms.
“Take it easy, Miss Thorne,” Cramer said. “We’ll have to have a talk.”
“Grand Dieu,” Gallant groaned, and covered his face with his hands.