gone and done it, Lieutenant—they have run away.” Madame Velasquez began to simper.
“I’m sorry, Madame Velasquez, but they haven’t run away. Mr. Endicott, you see, was attacked this evening. If he doesn’t live, whoever did it will be charged with murder.”
There was a complete absence of expression in Madame Velasquez’s tone. “And you think Marge done it,” she said.
“Not necessarily so at all. Your daughter may very well have met somebody else at the Colonial—some other party of friends—and have joined it when Mr. Endicott failed to show up. The Colonial is closed by now, but perhaps she went on to some night club. I shouldn’t worry.”