Part 26 (2/2)

”You can't!” Hendricks shot at him. The lawyer had been listening in silence, but he now refuted Ferdinand. ”You don't KNOW that Mrs.

Embury put on the catch of her door when she closed it.”

”I do, sir; I heard it click.”

”You are very observant,” said Shane; ”peculiarly so, it seems to me.”

”No, sir,” and Ferdinand looked thoughtful; ”but, you see, it's this way. Every night I hear the click of those locks, and it sort of seems natural to me to listen for it. If it should be forgotten, I'd think it my duty to call attention to it.”

”A most careful butler, on my word!” Shane's tone was a little sneering.

”He is, indeed!” Eunice defended; ”and I can a.s.sert that it is because of his faithfulness and efficiency that we have always felt safe at night from intrusion by marauders.”

”And you did lock your door securely last night, Mrs. Embury?”

”I most a.s.suredly did! I do every night. But that does not prove that I killed my husband. Nor that Miss Ames did.”

”Then your theory--”

”I have no theory. Mr. Embury was killed--it is for you detectives to find out how. But do not dare to say--or imply--that it was by the hand of his wife--or his relative!”

She glanced fondly at Miss Ames, and then again a.s.sumed her look of angry defiance toward the two men who were accusing her.

”It is for you to find out how,” said Mason Elliott, gravely. ”It is incredible that Mrs. Embury is the guilty one, though I admit the incriminating appearance of the henbane. But I've beet thinking it over, and while Mr. Driscoll's surmise that the deed can possibly be traced to one who recently saw the play of 'Hamlet,' yet he must remember that thousands of people saw that play, and that therefore it cannot point exclusively toward Mrs. Embury.”

”That's so,” agreed Driscoll. ”Who went with you to the play, Mrs.

Embury?”

”My aunt, Miss Ames; also a friend, Mrs. Desternay. And, I understand you went yourself, Mr. Driscoll. Why single out me for a suspect?”

The haughty face turned to him was quite severely critical.

”True, Mrs. Embury, why should I? The answer is, motive. You must admit that I had neither motive nor opportunity to kill your husband.

Mrs. Desternay, let us say, had neither opportunity nor motive. Miss Ames had opportunity but no motive. And so you, we must all admit, are the only human being who had both opportunity--and motive.”

”I did not have motive!” Eunice flushed back. ”You talk nonsense! I have had slight differences of opinion with my husband hundreds of time, but that is not a motive for murder! I have a high temper, and at times I am unable to control it. But that does not mean I am a murderess!”

”Not necessarily, but it gives a reason for suspecting you, since you are the only person who can reasonably be suspected.”

”But hold on, Driscoll, don't go too fast,” said Mason Elliott; ”there may be other people who had motives. Remember Sanford Embury was a man of wide public interests outside of his family affairs. Suppose you turn your attention to that sort of thing.”

”Gladly, Mr. Elliott; but when we've proved no outsider could get into Mr. Embury's room, why look for outside motives?”

”It seems only fair, to my mind, that such motives should be looked into. Now, for instance, Embury was candidate in a hotly contested coming election--”

”That's so,” cried Hendricks; ”look for your murderer in some such connection as that.”

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