“And third—simply this: That Jim Gainsay was strolling in the orchard about one o’clock on the night Dr. Letheny was killed. He passed the open window of the diet kitchen, saw her within, and stopped for a word or two through the window. Corole Letheny was also in the orchard, heard their conversation, and threatened to start a scandal, knowing that it would not sound well for a nurse to be seen visiting thus when she was on duty and at such an hour. For some reason Corole Letheny has developed a violent dislike for Jim Gainsay. According to Miss Day, then, he wrote to warn her against Corole.” O’Leary’s clear gray eyes searched my face. “Somehow the reasons Miss Day gave do not seem to warrant the extreme urgency expressed in this note. Do you think so, Miss Keate?”
“I hardly know,” I said thoughtfully. “Of course, it takes less than that to start a scandal, particularly if the starter is determined and malicious. And Corole is both. She is naturally rather—feline, you know.”
He took the note from my hand.
“ ‘Since news of this afternoon’ can only refer to Dr. Letheny’s death. No, Miss Keate. What would a little breath of evil comment such as Miss Letheny could start have to do with Dr. Letheny’s death? No—there is a deeper reason. I wish I could persuade Miss Day to be frank with me. Well, now to see if Gainsay tells the same story. Probably he will, but we will see.” He paused to regard me soberly. “Is there any room here in the wing where Gainsay and I could be undisturbed for a time? This is a case where the very leaves of the shrubbery seem to have ears and I don’t want Miss Corole to overhear us—or anyone else.”
“Why, yes,” I said slowly. “There is the drug room.”
The red light above Six gleamed. No other nurse was about, so I interrupted myself to answer and bring Sonny a fresh drink.
“I’ve been wishing you would come in to see me,” said Sonny cheerfully. “I’ve been alone ever since a man named Gainsay stopped to see me just at supper time. He wanted to know where everyone was and I told him it was just the time when you were all eating. Say, do you know him? I like him. He is a friend of Dr. Letheny’s. Say, why doesn’t Dr. Letheny come in to see me?”
“Sonny, did you say that Mr. Gainsay was here in St. Ann’s? Here in your room at dinner time?”
“Why, sure, he was here! Just about six o’clock.”
“Where did he go when he left your room?”
“I think he went on up the corridor toward the general office. I can’t be sure, though, for I was working a new crossword puzzle and didn’t listen for his steps. Say, Miss Keate, want to see my new puzzle?”
I forestalled the thin hand groping on the bedside table.
“Another time, Sonny. You must go to sleep now.”
O’Leary’s fingers sought the red pencil stub as I told him.
“So,” he pondered, “Jim Gainsay was here in St. Ann’s.”
“Where he had no business to be,” I interpolated grimly.
“And he was here at about the time I was knocked out and the radium stolen. This increases my interest in Mr. Gainsay.” He thrust his stub of a pencil into his pocket, ran a hand over his already smooth hair, and glanced at his watch. “I think we’ll have to disturb Jim Gainsay’s rest tonight—if he is asleep. You are sure the drug room will not be in use, Miss Keate?”
“If we need anything I’ll get it myself,” I promised hastily. There was a sort of repressed smile on his face as he turned away, though I’m sure I don’t know why.
Jim Gainsay must not have been asleep, for within five minutes the two men were coming along the corridor from the main entrance. One of the student nurses saw me lead them into the drug room and her eyes would likely have popped out had I not spoken sharply to her. On the theory that every cloud has a silver lining I considered it fortunate that Eleven chose that very time for a rather cataclysmic upheaval which kept Maida thoroughly engrossed for an hour or so, and I don’t think she ever knew of the interview that took place there in our wing.
She came very near it once, when she hurried for some soothing drops, but I forestalled her by offering to get the medicine myself. If she thought my hasty offer curious, she said nothing and went back to her patient.
Opening the drug-room door I walked into an electric atmosphere. Jim Gainsay, lounging tall and bronzed against the window sill, was clearly furious; his eyes were narrow and wary, his lean jaw was set, his lips tight and guarded.
I caught the words … “entirely a personal matter” in no very pleasant voice from Jim Gainsay.
“I must insist upon an answer, however,” said O’Leary. His voice had the keenness of a slender, shining steel blade.
Then both men became aware of my presence, and though I was rather deliberate in measuring the drops, they said nothing further until I left, when the murmur of their voices began again.
The interview prolonged itself and it was a good half hour before I had a chance—that is, needed to go into the drug room again, and it was only for an ice bag.
“And yet you remain a welcome guest in Corole Letheny’s house?” said O’Leary.
“Not so darned welcome,” replied Jim Gainsay, and I caught the flicker of a smile on O’Leary’s face as I closed the door.
In a few moments, however, O’Leary opened the door, peered down the corridor, saw me and beckoned.
His eyes were shining with that peculiarly lucent look as he motioned for me to precede him into the drug room.
“I want you to hear this, Miss Keate,” said O’Leary, his
