The only man who could
have helped me immediately was Senator Sanderson, and I knew that he was
in Montana."
Chauvenet smiled with a return of assurance.
"Of course. The hour was chosen well!"
"More wisely, in fact, than your choice of that big assassin of yours.
He's a clumsy fellow, with more brawn than brains. I had no trouble in
shaking him off in Boston, where you probably advised him I should be
taking the Montreal express."
Chauvenet blinked. This was precisely what he had told Zmai to expect. He
shifted from one foot to another, and wondered just how he was to escape
from Armitage. He had gone to Storm Springs to be near Shirley Claiborne,
and he deeply resented having business thrust upon him.
"He is a wise man who wields the knife himself, Monsieur Chauvenet. In
the taking of poor Count von Stroebel's life so deftly and secretly, you
prove my philosophy. It was a clever job, Monsieur!"
Chauvenet's gloved fingers caught at his mustache.
"That is almost insulting, Monsieur Armitage. A distinguished statesman
is killed--therefore I must have murdered him.
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