Inez had by this time so far recovered her composure that she was
able to meet us again in the living room.

"I'm very sorry to have to trouble you again," apologized Kennedy,
"but if I am to get anywhere in this case I must have the facts."

She looked at him, half-puzzled, and, I fancied, half-frightened,
too. "Anything I can tell you--of course, ask me," she said.

"Had your father any enemies who might desire his death?" shot out
Kennedy, almost without warning.

"No," she answered slowly, still watching him carefully, then
adding hastily: "Of course, you know, no one who tries to do
anything is absolutely without enemies, though."

"I mean," repeated Craig, carefully noting a certain hesitation in
her tone, "was there any one who, for reasons best known to
himself, might have murdered him in a way peculiarly likely under
the circumstances, say, with a dagger?"

Inez flashed a quick glance at Kennedy, as if to inquire just how
much or how little he really knew. I got the impression from it,
at least, that she was holding back some suspicion for a reason
that perhaps she would not even have admitted to herself.

I saw that Norton was also following the line of Kennedy's
questioning keenly, though he said nothing.

Before Kennedy could take up the lead again, her maid, Juanita, a