Barbara straightened up and winked away the tears. "There is," she
said tersely. "Investigate Jimmie's death."

Kent gazed at her in astonishment. "Please explain," he suggested.
"The morning paper states very plainly that the cause of death was an
attack of angina pectoris."

"Yes, I know, and that is what Philip Rochester contends also."
Barbara paused and glanced about the office; they had the room to
themselves. "B-but Helen believes otherwise."

Kent drew back. "What do you mean, Babs?" he demanded.

"Just that," Barbara spoke wearily, and Kent, giving her close
attention, grew aware of dark shadows under her eyes which told
plainly of a sleepless night. "I want to engage you as our counsel
to help Helen find out about Jimmie's death."

"Find out what?" asked Kent, his bewilderment increasing. "Do you
mean that Jimmie's death was not the result of a dangerous heart
disease, but of foul play?"

Barbara nodded her head vigorously. "Yes."

Kent sat back in his chair and regarded her in silence for a second.
"How could that be, Babs, in an open police court with dozens of
spectators all about?" he asked. "The slightest attempt to kill
him would have been frustrated by the police officials; remember,
a prisoner especially, is hedged in and guarded."