Killigrew relentlessly.
"Well, I was going to say that I've learned more about the Killigrew
family in these four months of travel than in all those years together."
"Something more than ornaments," suggested Kitty dryly.
"Yes, indeed," replied her father amiably.
And when he returned to the boat-deck that afternoon for tea (which, by
the way, he never drank, being a thorough-going coffee merchant), he
said to Kitty: "You win on points. If Webb doesn't pan out, why, we
can discharge him. I'll take a chance at a man who isn't afraid to
look you squarely in the eyes."
At the precise time when Kitty retired and Thomas went aft for his good
night pipe--eleven o'clock at sea and nine in New York--Haggerty found
himself staring across the street at an old-fashioned house. Like the
fisherman who always returns to the spot where he lost the big one, the
detective felt himself drawn toward this particular dwelling. Crawford
did not live there any more; since his marriage he had converted it
into a private museum. It was filled with mummies and cartonnages,
ancient pottery and trinkets.
Pages:
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86