Part 14 (1/2)

There's no such thing as direct, undistorted evidence! Moore didn't see the pencil in Sir Herbert's fingers at all. He saw it lying on the floor beside the dead man's hand,--or, he says he did.”

”Good Heavens! You don't suspect Moore!” cried Richard. ”Why, he's the best chap going!”

”I don't say he isn't, and I don't say I suspect him, but I want you people to understand that he _might_ have done it all,--might have committed the murder and might have written the scribbled paper to turn suspicion away from himself. As for the handwriting, that trembling, shaky scrawl can't be identified with anybody's ordinary writing.”

”Oh, I can't think it,” Richard objected. ”Why, Bob Moore couldn't do such a thing, and, besides, what would be his motive?”

”We haven't come to motive yet. We're finding out who had opportunity.”

”Any pa.s.ser-by had that,” Miss Prall said, positively; ”while Moore was up in the elevator, what was to prevent any pedestrian going by from stepping in and killing Sir Herbert?”

”Nothing; but there are few pedestrians at two o'clock in the morning, and fewer still who have a reason for a murder.”

”Oh, it must have been prearranged,” said Bates, thoughtfully. ”There's not the slightest doubt,” he went on hurriedly, ”that whoever killed him,--man, woman or child!--came in from the street to do the deed.”

”Why, of course,” agreed Miss Prall; ”where else could they have come from? n.o.body in the house would do it!”

”No; I suppose not,” admitted Corson. ”Well, then, ma'am, we have the a.s.sa.s.sin coming in from the street, while Moore is upstairs. And, according to the victim's own statement, the a.s.sa.s.sin was feminine and there were two, at least, of them. For I've studied that paper, and it says, clearly, 'women did this.' Want to see it?” his hand went toward his breast pocket.

”No,--oh, no,” and Miss Prall shuddered.

”Well, supposing a couple of women came in, having, we'll say, watched their chance, what more likely than that it was two chickens,--beg pardon, ma'am, that means gay young ladies,--with whom Sir Herbert had been dining? Why, like as not they came in with him. They didn't hang round outside waiting for him. You see, they'd been with him, and he had in some way offended them, let us say, and they wanted to kill him----”

”Seems to me you're drawing a long bow,” and Bates almost smiled at the mental picture of two gay chorus girls committing the gruesome deed.

Corson spoke seriously. ”No, Mr Bates, I'm not. If we take this written paper at its face value, and I don't know why we shouldn't, it means that women killed that man. And _if_ women, who more likely than the chorus girls? Unless you people up here can suggest some other women,--some, any women in the man's private life who wished to do him harm or who wished him out of the way. That's why I'm here, to learn anything and all things you may know that might aid me in a search for the right women--the women who really killed him. Chorus girls are wholly supposit.i.tious. But the real women, the women who _are_ the criminals, must and shall be found!”

CHAPTER VI

The Little Dinner

The next morning at eight o'clock, Morton, the day doorman, came on duty.

Corson eagerly began at once to question him, and he told the story of Sir Herbert Binney's departure from the house, but there his information ended.

”All I know is, Mr Binney went away from here in a taxicab, 'long about half-past six, I think it was. And he went to the Hotel Magnifique,--at least, that's what he told the driver. And that's the last I saw of him.

But his man, Peters, is due any minute,--maybe he'll know more.”

”Peters? A valet?”

”Yes, and general factotum. He comes every morning at eight, and takes care of his boss.”

And in a few moments Peters arrived. His shocked astonishment at the news was too patently real to give the slightest grounds of suspicion that he had any knowledge of it before his arrival.

”Poor old duffer!” he said, earnestly, ”he was awful fond of life. Now, who would kill him, I'd like to know!”

”That's what we all want to know, Peters,” said Corson. ”Come, I'll go up to his rooms with you, and we can look things over.”