Again Dr. Hajek made an inarticulate murmur which O’Leary silenced.
“Becoming impatient at his continued failure to locate the radium, Miss Letheny herself, who was in—er—in cahoots with Hajek, took a hand in the matter. Knowing what had happened in the room and being by nature extremely superstitious, she was intensely frightened when upon entering Room 18 in the middle of the night in order to make a search for the radium herself, she saw a sheeted figure on the bed. She, too, failed to find the radium.”
“You are perfectly right about that,” said Corole brazenly. “But you are wrong about—”
“Then one night Hajek grew desperate; he wanted the radium and Corole—that is, Miss Letheny—was reproaching him for his continued failure to find the radium. He recalled the circumstance of the electric-light connection having been damaged by lightning on the night of June seventh, decided that that condition was a valuable help and, repeated, would aid him in making a thorough and prolonged search in Room 18. So he went to the basement, disconnected the electric current, let himself out the grade door, ran around the corner of the hospital, entered the south wing by the unlocked south door, for the windows were bolted, and was into Room 18 in about a minute and a half after he pulled the light switch. Either from reflection or because he had exhausted all the other available hiding places, he went at once to the loud speaker, which by an odd circumstance was the original speaker that was in Room 18 the night of the seventh. But Higgins, in the basement, saw him and followed him. Higgins came upon him in Room 18. As I say, Hajek had at last found the radium and at the knowledge of someone witnessing his theft he shot wildly in the dark, the bullet killing Higgins instantly. Likely Higgins had said something, indicated in some way that he knew what Hajek was about and what he had taken from that loud speaker. I don’t know how it happened that Higgins got up courage enough to follow and threaten Hajek with exposure, but he evidently did. Hajek, frightened at the consequence of his deed, simply acted from primitive impulse; if he were caught on his way from the hospital the possession of the radium would be a distinctly incriminating fact, no matter how he tried to explain it away. He had only a few seconds in which to act, and he followed Dr. Letheny’s example, hiding the radium in the first place that came to hand which was—a flower pot. He scooped out the dirt, thrust the box into the aperture and the soil in his pocket and hurried from the wing, around the hospital, in the basement door and to his room—where we found him later. He had barely time to get to his room unobserved.”
“I didn’t! You are lying! I didn’t!” cried Dr. Hajek, his face livid and those glaring eyes going from one to the other of us. “I tell you I didn’t!”
At a motion from O’Leary, O’Brien stepped closer to Hajek, thrusting the revolver he held close to Hajek’s ribs.
“But—but the mud on the window casing,” I began, bewildered. “If he used the grade door and came up by the basement—”
O’Leary interrupted me.
“Miss Day happened on the radium in the pot of lobelias; it was in the corridor where Hajek had placed it in his hurry, knowing that Room 18 would be thoroughly searched. Miss Keate in the meantime—I think we need not go into that. Anyway it came thus to my hands for a moment or two before Hajek knocked me senseless and took the radium. He had managed, from his room off the general office, to hear Miss Keate’s announcement and must have watched until she gave it to me—”
“I’ll admit to that,” cried Dr. Hajek. “But not to that oth—”
“There, there!” O’Brien poked him suggestively and Hajek stopped talking.
“But,” began Dr. Balman uncertainly, “I never dreamed it was Dr. Hajek. Why he was right there with me when we found you, O’Leary, there by the stairs. He seemed as astonished as I was.” Dr. Balman reached unsteadily for his handkerchief and passed it over his forehead. “This is terrible, O’Leary, terrible.” His voice shook. “Do you realize that you are accusing a doctor of St. Ann’s of unspeakable crimes? That you are—”
“Truth is truth.” There was a queer, icy look in O’Leary’s gray eyes. “If a doctor of St. Ann’s is guilty, he is as guilty as any other man would be.”
“Oh, yes. Yes, I suppose so,” agreed Dr. Balman, reluctantly. “But it is no less—terrible.” He shuddered visibly.
I found my tongue.
“Then what part has Mr. Gainsay in all this?”
O’Leary eyed me curiously before replying. Then he turned to Jim Gainsay.
“Gainsay,” he said slowly, “is a young man who is going to get into serious trouble sometime through not minding his own business. He is incurably inquisitive and has been quite sure that he and he alone could solve this mystery.” There was a gleam of mirth back of those clear, gray eyes.
Jim straightened up, felt absently in his pocket and drew out a pipe, which he held without lighting, the policeman at the window watching him with an impassive countenance.
Jim sighed.
“I am a fool,” he admitted abruptly. “But, Lord, it didn’t seem to me that you were getting anywhere. I had to take a hand in it. I thought the first thing to do was to find the radium.”
Corole’s slitted eyes flashed green fire.
“You nearly got it, too,” she said viciously. “But I got away from you.”
“Where did you hide it when Hajek turned it over to you immediately after stealing it from me?” asked O’Leary mildly.
Corole’s face was sullen but
