Who's sorry now?

this might be meaningful. Maybe because the man would be recognized as local? Or conversely, and more likely, that he didn’t want to be seen in Voorburg by anyone.
    Looking back later in the day, Walker realized that the books must have been set on fire at a little before two in the morning. Howard had awakened at the increasingly rare sound of rain at the open window of his bedroom at two. His phone had rung soon after Howard had closed the window, with a furious squawk from Mr. Kurtz the night of the second fire at his shop.
    He called on Mrs. Smithson after he’d spoken to the libraries. ”Mrs. Smithson, do you recall the man who came into your grandfather’s shop the first day he was open for business?”
    ”Vaguely,” she said. ”I was still exhausted from the long trip. Why do you ask?”
    ”You said his first customer was Mrs. White wanting her girls’ dresses let down, didn’t you?”
    ”Yes. I do remember that.”
    ”You also had a man come in?”
    ”Did I say that?”
    ”Robert said you did. What do you remember about him?”
    ”Nothing. He just came in while I was bringing a sandwich out front for my grandfather. He was so anxious to get everything in place that he hadn’t even made himself breakfast.”
    ”Do you recall what he looked like?”
    ”I had no reason to remember,” Mrs. Smithson said. ”All I saw was that he came in the door, and when Grandpa asked what he needed done, the man just shrugged. He didn’t speak. He just stood there for a few minutes watching the pinking shears and scissors being hung on the wall and flat bundles of fabric being put on the shelves. When I came back to take away Grandpa’s plate and glass of beer, nobody was in the shop.”
    ”Was he tall or short? Fat or skinny? Bald or a redhead?”
    ”Chief Walker, I haven’t any idea. I just thought he was rude and went back in the little kitchen to eat my own sandwich and make some coffee for Robert.”
    ”I’m sorry to have bothered you with this. If you happen to think of anything else, let me know. I realize how awful these attacks on your grandfather are and am determined to find and lock up whoever is doing them.”
    Her reply was softer and stronger. ”I know you do care almost as much as I do. I’m sorry to have been short with you.”
    ”You’re entitled to be,” Howard replied. ”I promise I won’t let this go on without finding who is doing this to your grandfather.”
    Walker knew that he’d eventually find the man or woman, and now that he’d talked to the librarians, it seemed it clearly was a man. This man would go to jail for quite a while for two counts of attempted murder for trying to burn down the shop with the owner inside, and at least two counts of arson.
    But he deeply regretted that he was still completely ignorant about the person who was responsible for the violent and vicious murder of Edwin McBride. Someone had to pay, perhaps with his own life, for that murder. Surely there would eventually be some clue to the perpetrator lurking in the back of his mind that would be blindingly obvious when his brain dislodged something trivial but important.
    He dropped by the train station, hoping to get some answers from Harry or Jim. He was astonished at how well the Robert Brewster Letter and Package Center was coming along. All of the boxes were finished and Harry was working on the doors and the hardware for the combination locks.
    ”This is the hardest and most expensive part of the job,” Harry said. ”The rest is easy. Making a sorting table in back, and putting in a door with a lock, so nobody else can get in except for Mrs. Gasset.”
    ”Where is Jim today?”
    ”He’s on an emergency call. One of Mrs. Smithson’s hot water systems has blown up. He’s turned off the water and gone to Poughkeepsie to buy a new one. Excuse me, but could you move over a bit? I’m ready for the next bank of slots to get their doors.”
    Walker took a seat as close as he could get without being in Harry’s way. He didn’t want to be overheard by anyone else. ”Harry, did Edwin ever have company? Did any of his old friends from his neighborhood come to visit him?”
    ”One tall blond man visited him. But it was weeks ago. Edwin told us he was an old friend from his childhood.”
    That confirmed what Deputy Parker had overheard. ”Oh, there was one other visitor. That tart in the red dress who used to hang around in the middle of town.”
    ”Did she stay?”
    Harry laughed.