“Really, Clemens, you’ve let your imagination run away with you,” said Sir Denis. “You’re so anxious to see your friend go unpunished that you strike out wildly and hit everything but the target. This is silly, old boy.” He laughed, and waggled his hand as if to dismiss the very idea. But the laugh sounded forced, and there was a thin line of sweat on his brow.
“There’s one more detail you forgot,” said my employer. He turned to Chief Inspector Lestrade. “You can check this yourself as soon as you get to a telephone. When Sir Denis dropped us off at the train station after the shooting, he said he was going to go tell the sheriff. He never did—and yet, not half an hour ago, he claimed the sheriff was pursuing the matter and even told me a few clues he’d found. But the sheriff didn’t find any clues at all. I know, because I telephoned the fellow myself, and he swore that Sir Denis never reported any shooting on his property. Sir Denis never dreamed I’d call the sheriff on the telephone—because he doesn’t have a phone himself.”
“That’s queer, no two ways about it,” said Lestrade. “Still, it doesn’t prove the lady is our murderer.”
“That’s right, you must have talked to the wrong man,” said Sir Denis, hotly. Now he rose, his hands pushing on the tabletop. “See here, it must be an underling you spoke to. Let’s go talk to the sheriff; he’ll set you straight.” He took a step toward the door.
“Never mind, Denis,” said Lady Alice. “You can’t keep asking everyone to lie for us.” She looked around the table at each of us. “Dr. Parkhurst deserved to die before he killed more innocent children—and innocent men, like poor Mr. Boulton. None of the other doctors would speak against him as long as he was alive. He was too powerful, too rich—he all but ran the hospital, even though he was a butcher in the operating room.” Her face was sad, and yet peaceful, as if a great weight was off her conscience.
“Pay no attention to her,” said Sir Denis, putting a hand on her shoulder. “My poor wife is distraught by all these wild accusations. Alice, calm yourself. You haven’t done anything.”
She shook off his hand, then stood up and continued. “Dear Denis! It’s no use. The world is a better place without Dr. Parkhurst. I saw what needed to be done, and I did it. I am not sorry, and I will not ask anyone to lie for me. I will answer to my Maker for what I have done. I do not think He will judge me harshly.” She looked straight ahead, her chin high.
There was a shocked silence. Lestrade finally broke it: “He will judge us all,” he said, soberly. “But for now, Lady Alice, I must ask you to come with me. Sir Denis, Miss Donning, I fear you are under arrest as well. I warn you that anything you say may be noted down and used against you in court. Coleman, call the other lads up here.” The assistant nodded briskly and turned to go down the stairs.
Sir Denis shook his head. “I feared it would come to this,” he said. “I must tell you, neither my wife nor Miss Donning had anything to do with the killing. I let go Alice’s hand in the dark, as I sometimes do at séances to test whether the medium can sense it. Then, with one hand, I fired the shot that killed Dr. Parkhurst. I am an expert shot with either hand; everyone in England knows it. It was I, and I alone who killed him.”
At this, Lady Alice started to speak. Sir Denis hushed her with a finger to her lips. “No, my dear, I can’t let you take the blame for what I have done. But I shall always remember that you were ready to do so. Hush, my dear, we must neither one say anything more.”
We all sat there in a state of shock; even Cedric Villiers seemed for once to be at a loss for words.
“I shall have to take you all before the judge,” repeated Lestrade. He gestured to Coleman and the constables, who had begun to file into the room from downstairs.
“In that case, I shall let my barrister speak for me,” said Sir Denis in a crisp voice. Ophelia Donning simply sat there with a stunned look on her face; she had said nothing since Mr. Clemens had linked her to the conspiracy. For a brief moment the tableau was frozen; I realized that Mrs. Parkhurst was crying softly.
Then: “I’ll just get my wrap,” said Lady Alice, with a brave smile. She stepped lightly into the bedroom, disappearing almost instantly, since she had been sitting only two or three paces from the door. Then several of us must have remembered the same thing at once: the coats were hung on the rack in the foyer. I got to my feet, as did Miss Donning on the opposite side of the table, and started for the door. Lestrade realized it a moment later; he motioned to Constable Wilkins to follow Lady Alice. “Quickly, man,” he said, and the urgency in his voice was clear.
It was only a few seconds’ delay—surely no more—before the constable pushed through the door Lady Alice had closed behind her, but it was just long enough.
There was a dull report and the constable gave a cry. “No, ma’am! My gawd!”
Lestrade followed his constable, with Sir Denis hot on his heels, and everyone else crowding after them. Then,
