elsewhere in the apartment. But the buzzer in the kitchen rang again and again.
"What's happened here?" Gregg demanded of Mrs. Russell.
"He shot him!"
"Who?"
"George."
"You mean George Russell who was your husband?"
She nodded, her hand tightening convulsively in her grip of the door.
"Then what did he do?"
"He got out! I don't know anything more than that!"
"Where did he shoot him?"
She put a hand to her breast.
"Where were they?" Gregg pressed on.
"In front."
"Outside?"
"No; in the living room. He'd just come"
"Mr. Hale, you mean?"
"Yes; George was waiting for him here."
"You knew that?"
"Yes; he'd come in with me, George had. I thought I'd better bring him in. I thought I could do something with him in here. I was trying to; I think I could have but just at the wrong minute, Charles came."
Gregg winced and she saw it and stopped.
"Go on," he commanded.
"He tried to interfere for me, Charles did. He thought George would hurt me. I could look out for myself. I had; but Charles"
The buzzer was sounding almost continuously and
