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It was late afternoon when Harry Driver was informed that he was free to leave on his own recognizance. Dawkins had detained him, questioned him and finally released him. Proctor, who had been with him through most of the ordeal, drove him back to the old two-story house on Magglin Lane overlooking Conception Bay, inquired if he needed anything and, when informed that he didn't, deposited the officer on the slush-covered sidewalk in front of his housea house that had now been witness to both the end of his marriage to Janet and the death of Flora Saint Quentin. |
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Driver walked slowly up to the front door, unlocked it and entered the darkened house. Not the sort of man to avoid the obvious, he headed directly for the first floor bathroom where he had discovered Flora's body less than 19 hours earlier. True to his word, Proctor had taken care of matters. The body had been removed and a cursory inspection indicated that whoever had been assigned to the distasteful task had pretty well removed all evidence of the previous day's violence. |
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From there he went to the kitchen, opened the door to the freezer, removed some ice cubes, put them in a tall glass and splashed it nearly a third full with bourbon. After adding a dash of water, he sagged disconsolately into the same chair where Flora always had sat and |
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