But did he do it himself or did
some one else do it? That's the question."
"What is your theory," inquired Kennedy absently, "assuming there
is no scandal hidden in the life of Phelps before or after he
married the Russian dancer?"
"I don't know, Kennedy," confessed Andrews. "I have had so many
theories and have changed them so rapidly that all I lay claim to
believing, outside of the bald facts that I have stated, is that
there must have been some poison. I rather sense it, feel that
there is no doubt of it, in fact. That is why I have come to you.
I want you to clear it up, one way or another. The company has no
interest except in getting at the truth."
"The body is really there?" asked Kennedy. "You saw it?"
"It was there no later than this afternoon, and in an almost
perfect state of preservation, too."
Kennedy seemed to be looking at and through Andrews as if he would
hypnotise the truth out of him. "Let me see," he said quickly. "It
is not very late now. Can we visit the mausoleum to-night?"
"Easily.
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