Duff said, 'Perhaps some sedative. If I could make this Ught. . .'
Gertrude went across the room. 'On the mantel,' she said. They couldn't see her but they could hear her fingers as they went along the wood. 'Mr. Duff .. .' she said as if she held something out to him,
'Wait a minute. I think . . . yes . . .' His flashhght sprang on. The beam leaped to Gertrude, as she stood beside the mantel with a white pillbox in her hand.
Isabel was stock still, her Ups drawn back from her teeth in a kind of grisly surprise. She wheeled about, with her jerky manner. 'Not those,' she said. Her claw took the cover off the blue china box.
Duff took the box from Isabel.
Then Mr. Johnson was standing m the door. Duff sent the light glancing across the dark face. It was calm. 'Innes wants you.'
'Not now. Give him one or two of these, if you can.' The light danced as Duff shook two pills out into his dirty hand.
Gertrude's tall body wavered as if she weren't quite steady on her feet. 'I don't understand. Mr. Duff?' she said. Her voice began to trail as if she were losing at least a part of her consciousness. Her thumb moved on the pDlbox in her hand. 'What pills are these? Mr. Duff, is she dead?'
'Oh, yes,' he said.
Mr. Johnson spoke. 'Broken neck,' he said, neither question nor answer. He moved out of the hght, silently.
'My fault,' said Isabel. Her face looked hollowed in the light coming from below. Her eyes seemed wild with sorrow. 'My fault, because I called her. I called her name. The lights . . . Innes ... I thought something was wrong. Poor girl. Poor Alice.'
Gertrude said, 'Is there light? Mr. Duff, can you see?'
'I can see,' he said.
'Then why don't you see . . .' Gertrude put out her hand gropingly, for the first time. 'I am blind,' she said weakly. 'Who is in this room? Who is here?'
The Indian had gone to his master.
Duff said, 'I am here, Miss Whitlock, and your sister Isabel, and . . .'
'And Fred,' said Isabel rather tartly.
'Is there a chair?' said Gertrude piteously.
Fred let go of Alice's hand and sat up in bed as if he liad been released. 'What happened?' he demanded.
Duffs voice was drearily cadenced. 'I suppose she started down the hall in the dark. She came to the chest of drawers that always stood just before you reached this door. So she opened the door that was next to the chest of drawers and it led out to nowhere.'
'Why wasn't it locked!'
'Because this is murder.'
'That's impossible,' said Gertrude. 'I'm . . .'
'No, it isn't impossible. As a matter of fact, Miss Isabel arranged it'
Isabel had her lip caught m her teeth. Her queer eyes looked aslant.
'You killed her. Miss Isabel, just as much as if you'd shot her, you know. That's murder. The law will say so. Premeditated. DeUberate. Planned.'
Isabel shook her head.
'You tried three times to kill your brother Imies. And failed. Then you tried to kill Alice Brennan.'
She shook her head.
'After that,' said Duff, ''you tried a fourth time to kill your brother Innes. But he's safe.'
He took the aspirin bottie from his pocket and shook it, lightly. 'The poisoned pill's in here,' he said. He put the bottle down on the bedside table.
Gertrude said, with a ghostly indignation, forceless, perfunctory, 'Mr. Duff, you realize you are speaking of my sister?'
'Yes,' said Duff, 'to your sister, who is a murderess. Miss Whitiock. Because you are blind and Maud could hear. Therefore, I know. Understand, Miss Isabel? I am sure. Your sister Maud could hear. She heard and she was curious, and so she died.'
Isabel said, 'Maud! MaudI'
'Alice,' said Duff quietly.
Alice found her voice a little one, weak, in the back of her throat. 'Pm here,' she said, sounding meek and childish. 'I'm still here.'
Isabel's one hand clutched the footboard, and she leaned on that arm.
'It reaUy doesn't matter,' Duffs voice went on, dreamy again. 'No, it really doesn't matter that you got the wrong person. You killed her. You moved the chest and you put out the lights. Coming along the hall in the dark, one would grope for the door one knew came just beyond that chest. This door. But it wasn't this door. Oh yes, you are guilty.
'Why, Miss Isabel? Why did you do it? Because you couldn't let go? You thought you were going to get a
