"I haven't looked into the case very deeply, but I'm not so sure
that he had the secret, are you?"
Kennedy smiled. "That is what I'd like to know. I suppose that an
expert like Mr. Borland could tell me, perhaps?"
"I should think so."
"Where is his office?" asked Craig. "Could you point it out to me
from the window?"
Kennedy was standing by one of the windows of the doctor's office,
and as he spoke he turned and drew a little field glass from his
pocket. "Which end of the rubber works is it?"
Dr. Howe tried to direct him but Kennedy appeared unwarrantably
obtuse, requiring the doctor to raise the window, and it was some
moments before he got his glasses on the right spot.
Kennedy and I thanked the doctor for his courtesy and left the
office.
We went at once to the office of Dr. Harris, to whom Winslow had
also given us cards. We found him an anaemic man, half asleep.
Kennedy tentatively suggested the murder of Cushing.
"Well, if you ask me my opinion," snapped out the doctor,
"although I wasn't called into the case, from what I hear, I'd say
that he was murdered.
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