“Who is it?” Lila tiptoed down the stairs.
Collier placed his hand over the mouthpiece. “It’s Queenie.”
“Hand that phone to me. I’ll give her a mouthful,” Lila said. “Imagine calling at this hour.”
“Are you still there, Inspector?” Queenie asked.
“I am.” He turned away from Lila and shooed her with his hand. “What do you want?”
“Werner is alive.”
“I know,” he replied. “It doesn’t matter how I know. I just know. Queenie?”
“Thank you for being there.” He could hear her breathing. For a moment, he thought she was crying.
In a quiet voice, she said, “Thank you,” and the line went dead.
He hung up and turned to face Lila. Where in blazes has she gone?! Thinking she went to bed he began to climb the stairs when he noticed the light was on in the drawing room.
“Well, what did she want?” Lila asked when he entered the room.
“To tell me something I already knew.”
“Not much of a clairvoyant or psychic, I would say,” she replied, scornfully. “Surely she could have waited. And I hope you told her so? Four-thirty in the morning is suc...