She shrieked madly.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
HANDCUFFS
Dale had failed with the Doctor. When Lizzie's screams once more
had called the startled household to the living-room, she knew she
had failed. She followed in mechanically, watched an irritated
Anderson send the Pride of Kerry to bed and threaten to lock her
up, and listened vaguely to the conversation between her aunt and
the detective that followed it, without more than casual interest.
Nevertheless, that conversation was to have vital results later on.
"Your point about that thumbprint on the stair rail is very
interesting," Anderson said with a certain respect. "But just what
does it prove?"
"It points down," said Miss Cornelia, still glowing with the memory
of the whistle of surprise the detective had given when she had
shown him the strange thumbprint on the rail of the alcove stairs.
"It does," he admitted. "But what then?"
Miss Cornelia tried to put her case as clearly and tersely as
possible.
"It shows that somebody stood there for some time, listening to my
niece and Richard Fleming in this room below," she said.
"All right--I'll grant that to save argument," retorted the
detective. "But the moment that shot was fired the lights came on.
If somebody on that staircase shot him, and then came down and took
the blue-print, Miss Ogden would have seen him."
He turned upon Dale.
"Did you?"
She hesitated. Why hadn't she thought of such an explanation before?
But now--it would sound too flimsy!
"No, nobody came down," she admitted candidly.
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