There was such evident sincerity in the man’s voice that even Smith, I could see, was troubled. He said: “I want you to understand, Mr. Breese, that I’m merely doing my duty.” The old man nodded. “But there are still actions of yours that I can’t explain away. Why were you so anxious to leave the country before your wife’s funeral? I had to go to the trouble of getting you shipped back from Key West.” “Oh, you were the one?” the old man smiled grimly. “I suspected as much. Well, I did want to get away. You remember you told me that the Count had been arrested on his confession. I know how my daughter feels about him. Coming at that time, I felt I had all the sorrow I could bear. I wanted to get away to think things out. I was afraid of breaking under the strain.” He paused. “As a matter of fact, I consulted Rice and asked his advice. He advised me to go away. He knew I had nothing to do with it and he was perfectly willing to look after my family.” “You should have consulted me,” Smith said. “If you’d talked as frankly as you do now we’d have been much further ahead in this case.” “I had no desire to tangle myself up with the police,” the old man pointed out. “Well, then, finally,” said Smith, “just why did you come to see Mr. Spence?” “If a man writes me to come and see him, and then telephones me he has information on my wife’s death, I’d naturally come. As a matter of fact, I paid no attention to the letter, because it was so cryptic. It was only after he phoned me that I decided to look into the matter.” “Why didn’t you refer Spence to me?” demanded Smith. “I’m in the habit of doing things for myself,” replied Breese. “I wasn’t afraid to come down. I took a revolver along as a precaution. I had no real reason to be afraid. And perhaps you’re willing to believe that I’m just as anxious to clear up my wife’s death as anyone can be. I feel I’m under a shadow until the case is cleared.” From Smith’s bland expression I knew that he was studying the financier with great interest. I knew that Smith had not yet made up his mind. “You must understand,” Smith continued, “that your visit here, coupled with other circumstances, is highly suspicious. Let me show you why--I talked with Spence. He’s a blackmailer. He wants money. Any jury would assume that he wrote you for only one purpose--to get hush money. And that you came down to give it to him.” “But I never heard of the man before!” cried Breese. “But you heard of Trenholm.” “No,” said Breese. “I didn’t. First I saw of him was the night of the funeral, although I was paying him his salary. That Trenholm business is absolutely beyond me. That whole night is like a nightmare to me even now. I woke up last night shivering and sweating. I’d been dreaming all sorts of crazy things, with Trenholm in them. It’s taken all my will power, I tell you, to keep my hold on things.”