“She then followed him again into the hall to spy on him while he counted the bonds; she followed him back to the study after dinner to spy on him again, to see where he put them; she got rid of him with a lie, broke into his desk, confirmed her worst suspicions, and decided definitely on a course of action. A telephone message to Stephen Bellamy, another lie from the foot of the stairs to her unsuspecting husband, and she was on her way.
“Before she reached the gate, something went wrong, and she returned to the house—possibly for the reason that she gave you, possibly for another. At any rate, within a minute or so she was at her old task of eavesdropping and spying, and a minute or so later than that Patrick Ives was safely locked up, well out of the running when it came to protecting the foolish girl at the cottage or the maddened one on her way there. Susan Ives had successfully disposed of the greatest menace to the execution of her scheme. Perhaps fuel was added to the flame by what she heard from the room off the day nursery; perhaps she heard nothing at all and merely wanted to get Patrick out of the way. It is a matter of no great importance. She had accomplished her purpose and was on her way again, to meet Stephen Bellamy.
“It is the state’s contention that she went to that rendezvous with a knife in her pocket and murder in her heart. Patrick Ives has told you that the knife that the state put in evidence was not out of his possession that evening; it is for you to decide whether you believe him or not. But which knife struck the blow is of no great importance either. The knife that murdered Madeleine Bellamy was, as you have been told, a perfectly ordinary knife—such a knife as might be found in any of your homes—in the kitchen, in the pantry, in the tool chest. From any of these places Susan Ives might have procured one, cleansed it and replaced it. We need not let which one she actually procured give us great concern.
“Susan Ives herself has touched very briefly on that drive with Stephen Bellamy through the quiet, starlit summer night; she merely confirms Stephen Bellamy’s account, which is neither very coherent nor very convincing. The gist of it was that Sue Ives was occupied in proving Mimi’s guilt and he with denying it. Some such conversation may well have taken place.
“The part that Stephen Bellamy played in the actual commission of this murder is a more enigmatic one than that of Susan Ives, if not less sinister. From the outset, it must have been perfectly clear to Mrs. Ives’s exceptionally shrewd mind that, if she did not want Stephen Bellamy at her heels as an avenging husband, she must lure him into the role of an accomplice. This, by means best known to herself, she accomplished. We have it on Stephen Bellamy’s own word that he entered that little room with her and left it with her, and we know that he sits beside her in this dock because they have elected to hang or go free together.
“Now as to what Mr. Lambert is pleased to refer to as their alibi, and then I have done.
“Of course, they have neither of them the shred of an alibi. Accepting the fact that they left the gas station shortly after nine and reached Stephen Bellamy’s at about ten, they would have had ample time to reach the Thorne place by the River Road, confront the waiting girl with the intercepted note, murder her, make good their escape, and return to Bellamy’s by ten o’clock. Later, Bellamy returns to the cottage alone to get the jewels, in order to give colour to the appearance of robbery and to remove any traces of the crime that they may have left behind them. Possibly it was then that he brought the lamp from the hall and smashed it at the dead girl’s feet. By then they had had time to work out a story in the remote possibility of their eventual discovery pretty thoroughly. At any rate, he took Susan Ives home and returned alone. I repeat, they have no alibi.
“ ‘Well, what of the laugh?’ you say. ‘What of the car that was not there?’ To which I echo, ‘What of them, indeed?’
“Gentlemen, just stop to think for one minute. Who heard that laugh? Who failed to see that automobile? Who fixed the hour for this murder at the moment that would come closest to establishing an alibi for these two? Why, the brother of Susan Ives—the loving, the devoted, the adoring brother, who stood up here in this room and told you that he would do anything short of murder to protect his sister—”
Lambert was on his feet, his eyes goggling in an ashen countenance. “He said nothing of the kind! Your Honour—”
“He did not say that he would
