Janet Henry went to her father’s side. “Don’t go, Father,” she begged. “Listen to Mr. Beaumont.”
“I have listened to Mr. Beaumont,” the Senator said. “I’m perfectly willing to listen to him again if he has any more information to give me. Otherwise I must ask you to excuse me.” He smiled at Ned Beaumont. “It is on what you told me that I’m acting now.”
Ned Beaumont regarded him with level eyes. “I don’t think you ought to go to see him,” he said.
The Senator looked haughtily at Ned Beaumont.
Janet said, “But, Father,” before the look in his eyes stopped her.
Ned Beaumont cleared his throat. Spots of color were in his cheeks. He put his left hand out quickly and touched Senator Henry’s right-hand overcoat-pocket.
Senator Henry stepped back indignantly.
Ned Beaumont nodded as if to himself. “That’s no good at all,” he said earnestly. He looked at Janet Henry. “He’s got a gun in his pocket.”
“Father!” she cried and put a hand to her mouth.
Ned Beaumont pursed his lips. “Well,” he told the Senator, “it’s a cinch we can’t let you go out of here with a gun in your pocket.”
Janet Henry said: “Don’t let him, Ned.”
The Senator’s eyes burned scornfully at them. “I think both of you have quite forgotten yourselves,” he said. “Janet, you will please go to your room.”
She took two reluctant steps away, then halted and cried: “I won’t! I won’t let you do it. Don’t let him, Ned.”
Ned Beaumont moistened his lips. “I won’t,” he promised.
The Senator, staring coldly at him, put his right hand on the streetdoor’s knob.
Ned Beaumont leaned forward and put a hand over the Senator’s. “Look here, sir,” he said respectfully, “I can’t let you do this. I’m not just interfering.” He took his hand off the Senator’s, felt in the inside pocket of his coat, and brought out a torn, creased, and soiled piece of folded paper. “Here’s my appointment as special investigator for the District Attorney’s office last month.” He held it out to the Senator. “It’s never been cancelled as far as I know, so”–he shrugged–“I can’t let you go off to shoot somebody.”
The Senator did not look at the paper. He said contemptuously: “You are trying to save your murderous friend’s life.”
“You know that isn’t so.”
The Senator drew himself up. “Enough of this,” he said and turned the door-knob.
Ned Beaumont said: “Step on the sidewalk with that gun in your pocket and I’ll arrest you.”
Janet Henry wailed: “Oh, Father!”
The Senator and Ned Beaumont stood staring into each other’s eyes, both breathing audibly.
The Senator was the first to speak. He addressed his daughter: “Will you leave us for a few minutes, my dear? There are things I should like to say to Mr. Beaumont.”
She looked questioningly at Ned Beaumont. He nodded. “Yes,” she told her father, “if you won’t go out before I’ve seen you again.”
He smiled and said: “You shall see me.”
The two men watched her walk away down the hall, turn to the left with a glance thrown back at them, and vanish through a doorway.
The Senator said ruefully: “I’m afraid you’ve not had so good an influence on my daughter as you should. She isn’t usually so–ah–headstrong.”
Ned Beaumont smiled apologetically, but did not speak.
The Senator asked: “How long has this been going on?”
“You mean our digging into the murder? Only a day or two for me. Your daughter’s been at it from the beginning. She’s always thought Paul did it.”
“What?” The Senator’s mouth remained open.
“She’s always thought he did it. Didn’t you know? She hates him like poison–always has.”
“Hates him?” the Senator gasped. “My God, no!”
Ned Beaumont nodded and smiled curiously at the man against the door. “Didn’t you know that?”
The Senator blew his breath out sharply. “Come in here,” he said and led the way into the dim room where Ned Beaumont and Janet Henry had hidden. The Senator switched on the lights while Ned Beaumont was shutting the door. Then they faced one another, both standing.
“I want to talk to you as man to man, Mr. Beaumont,” the Senator began. “We can forget your”–he smiled–“official connections, can’t we?”