“Why not?”
“Because there is one man of whom Mr. Endicott speaks quite frequently as being his ‘best’ friend.”
“Here in town?”
“In a bachelor apartment on East Fifty-second Street.”
“You have his exact address?”
“It is in the memorandum book beside the telephone in Mrs. Endicott’s room.”
Lieutenant Valcour grew markedly casual. “A mutual friend, then?”
“One couldn’t say.”
“He is your only suggestion?”
“He is the only man to whom I have heard Mr. Endicott refer in terms of friendship and of intimacy.”
“Then there really isn’t any choice.”
Roberts’ smile signified nothing. “No choice.”
“Have you ever seen this man?”
“His name is Mr. Thomas Hollander. I have never seen him.”
“Has anyone in the household ever seen him, to your knowledge?”
“I dare say. I don’t know. One could inquire.”
Lieutenant Valcour recognized the rising inflection at each period mark, a habit so much in vogue among certain types of English people when