“After he was arrested for killing Donald Willsson you took this flat so you could watch her. What for?”

Not a word from her. I had to supply my own answer:

“Revenge. You blamed Dinah Brand for your brother’s trouble. You watched for your chance. It came the night before last. You sneaked into her house, found her drunk, stabbed her with the ice pick you found there.”

She didn’t say anything. I hadn’t succeeded in jolting the blankness out of her frightened face. I said:

“Dawn helped you, engineered it for you. He wanted Elihu Willsson’s letters. Who was the man he sent to get them, the man who did the actual killing? Who was he?”

That got me nothing. No change in her expression, or lack of expression. No word. I thought I would like to spank her. I said:

“I’ve given you your chance to talk. I’m willing to listen to your side of the story. But suit yourself.”