"I'm glad you gave me this information."
"What are you going to do with it?"
"I'm listening very carefully to everything you say," said Judd's voice. "I've got it all down" - at that moment a warning screamed in Judd's brain; the next words were - "on tape."
He made a dive for the switch and pressed it. " - in my mind," Judd said loudly. "And we'll work out the best way to handle it." He stopped. He could not play the tape again because he had no way of telling where to pick it up. His only hope was that the men outside were convinced that Judd had a patient in the office with him. Even if they believed that, would it stop them?
"Cases like this," Judd said, raising his voice, "are really more common than you'd believe, Harrison." He gave an impatient exclamation. "I wish they'd get these lights back on. I know your chauffeur's waiting out in front for you. He'll probably wonder what's wrong and come up."
Judd stopped and listened. He could hear whispering from the other side of the door. What were they deciding? From the distant street below, he suddenly heard the insistent wail of an approaching siren. The whispering stopped. He listened for the sound of the outer door closing, but he could hear nothing. Were they still out there, waiting? The scream of the siren grew louder. It stopped in front of the building.
And suddenly all the lights went on.
Chapter Eight
"DRINK?"
McGreavy shook his head moodily, studying Judd. Judd poured himself his second stiff scotch while McGreavy watched without comment. Judd's hands were still trembling. As the warmth of the whiskey floated through him, he felt himself beginning to relax.
McGreavy had arrived at the office two minutes after the lights had come on. With him was a stolid police sergeant who now sat making notes in a shorthand notebook.
McGreavy was talking. "Let's go over it once more, Dr. Stevens."
Judd took a deep breath and began again, deliberately keeping his voice calm and low. "I locked the office and went to the elevator. The corridor lights blacked out. I thought that the lights on the lower floors might be working, and I started to walk down." Judd hesitated, reliving the fear. "I saw someone coming up the stairs with a flashlight. I called out. I thought it was Bigelow, the guard. It wasn't."
"Who was it?"
"I've told you," said Judd. "I don't know. They didn't answer."
"What made you think they were coming to kill you?"
An angry retort came to Judd's lips, and he checked it. It was essential to make McGreavy believe him. "They followed me back to my office."
"You think there were two men trying to kill you?"
"At least two," Judd said. "I heard them whispering."
"You said that when you entered your reception office, you locked the outside door leading to the corridor. Is that right?"
"Yes."
"And that when you came into your inner office, you locked the door leading to the reception office."
"Yes."
McGreavy walked over to the door leading from the reception office to Judd's inner office. "Did they try to force this door?"
"No," admitted Judd. He remembered how puzzled he had been by that.
"Right," said McGreavy. "When you lock the reception-office door that opens onto the corridor, it takes a special key to open it from the outside."
Judd hesitated. He knew what McGreavy was leading up to. "Yes."
"Who had the keys to that lock?"
Judd felt his face reddening. "Carol and I."
McGreavy's voice was bland. "What about the cleaning people? How did they get in?"
"We had a special arrangement with them. Carol came in early three mornings a week and let them in. They were finished before my first patient arrived."
"That seems inconvenient. Why couldn't they get into these offices when they cleaned all the other offices?"
"Because the files I keep in here are of a highly confidential nature. I prefer the inconvenience to having strangers in here when no one is around."
McGreavy looked over at the sergeant to make sure he was getting it all down. Satisfied, he turned back to Judd. "When we walked into the reception office, the door was unlocked. Not forced - unlocked."
Judd said nothing.
McGreavy went on. "You just told us that the only ones who had a key to that lock were you and Carol. And we have Carol's key. Think again, Dr. Stevens. Who else had a key to that door?"
"No one."
"Then how do you suppose those men got in?"
And Judd suddenly knew. "They made a copy of Carol's key when they killed her."
"It's possible," conceded McGreavy. A bleak smile touched his lips. "If they made a copy, we'll find paraffin traces on her key. I'll have the lab run a test."
Judd nodded. He felt as though he had scored a victory, but his feeling of satisfaction was short-lived.
"So the way you see it," McGreavy said, "two men - we'll assume for the moment there's no woman involved - had a key copied so they could get into your office and kill you. Right?"
"Right," said Judd.
"Now you said that when you went into your office, you locked the inner door. True?"
"Yes," Judd said.
McGreavy's voice was almost mild. "But we found that door unlocked, too."
"They must have had a key to it."
"Then after they got it open, why didn't they kill you?"
"I told you. They heard the voices on the tape and - "