“No, you mustn’t tell her a word. But you can easily find out what I want without letting her see what I suspect.”
“I suppose I must try to find out, just to prove that you’re all wrong. But I don’t suspect Carter. It’s just too horrible to think.”
“My dear, whether we like it or not, we have to find the man who did this—more than ever now that your stepfather is cleared. A man who was capable of these things is capable of anything, and I can’t bear the thought that you may be meeting him and regarding him as a friend.”
“All right, Bob. I agree that we have to get to the bottom of this. I’ll do my best. But I’m still sure you’re wrong.”
“That’s right, Joan, I only hope I am. But, while you’re seeing Marian, I will try to find out a few things about friend Woodman on my own.”
At this moment Marian Brooklyn was shown in. She came across most mornings, and spent a part of the day at Liskeard House, taking her share in looking after Sir Vernon. It was a relief to her to have something to do. It stopped her from just thinking day and night of what she had lost. Ellery had not seen her since the tragedy, and he felt shy and awkward now in the presence of her grief. At the end of a few minutes he took his leave and left Joan to do what she had promised.
It was not easy to come to the point. How could she, without rousing suspicions, ask Marian about Carter Woodman’s movements on the night of the murders? But, very soon, Marian gave her just the chance she needed, by saying that she and Helen had been alone together all the previous evening.
“Where was Carter?” she asked.
“He had to go out and see someone on business. He did not get back till we were just going to bed.”
“Sitting up late as usual, I suppose?”
“It was about twelve o’clock—certainly not later. And you know I can’t sleep if I go to bed early.”
“I didn’t know Carter did business in the evenings. He always used to boast of keeping his evenings clear for enjoying himself.”
“Yes, and he had promised Helen to be in. But he said it was a very particular engagement. At some Club or other, I believe. He was seeing Sir John Bunnery about some legal business. When he came in he was dead tired, and went straight to bed.”
“Marian, do you like Carter?” Joan asked suddenly. “It seems funny I never asked you that before. I hate him.”
“My dear, you mustn’t say that. Of course I like him. I don’t mean I care for Carter like some other people; but of course I like him. Helen is a darling.”
“That means you don’t like him at all—only you’re too nice to say so.”
“I do like him, Joan. At least, I mean I don’t dislike him.”
“He seems to leave Helen alone a great deal.”
“Far too much, and he’s often out until all hours.”
“He even went out again after the dinner here last Tuesday, didn’t he?”
“No, he didn’t that night. He went away to his room and wrote letters. But he didn’t go out again. I stayed with Helen till he came up to bed—rather before twelve. But don’t talk about that horrible night.”
“I’m sorry, dear. I won’t again.”
And then they talked of other things, until Marian went in to sit a while with Sir Vernon. The doctor, who had been with him, saw Joan on his way out. Sir Vernon, he reported, was not yet out of immediate danger; but he was rallying wonderfully from the shock which he had sustained.
XXVIII
The Superintendent’s Theory
When Inspector Blaikie reported to Superintendent Wilson the results of his conversation with Carter Woodman, he had formed no definite theory. He explained without comment the precise terms of the will, stating that, if Walter Brooklyn had been removed, Carter Woodman, as next of kin, would have became the principal beneficiary. He was not prepared for the conclusion which his superior immediately drew on hearing that this was the case.
“Then Carter Woodman is the murderer,” said the superintendent, with an air of finality. “If we had known these facts before, it would have saved a world of trouble.”
“But,” said Inspector Blaikie, “Carter Woodman appears to have a perfect alibi. He was in the Cunningham Hotel at the time when the murders were committed—at least that seemed to be an undoubted fact when we investigated his movements.”
“My dear inspector, it does not follow that, because Walter Brooklyn’s alibi proved to be sound, all alibis are therefore equally sound. I do not need to remind you that alibis can be faked.”
“Quite so, sir; but aren’t you rather hasty in leaping to the conclusion that Woodman is guilty? We have really nothing against him, except a suggestion of motive. As matters stand now, he has gained absolutely nothing by the murders.”
“Perhaps not, though it is not safe to be too sure on that point. We may not know all the circumstances. But, if you are right, don’t you see that the very fact that, as matters stand now, he has gained nothing, is a very strong reason for suspecting him?”
The inspector failed to follow this reasoning. “Why do you say that?” he asked. “I can’t see it at all.”
“Well, it is clear that the murderer, whoever he was, did his level best to get Walter Brooklyn hanged. Who stood to gain by getting Walter Brooklyn out of the way?”
“I see. Carter Woodman. Yes, I follow now.”
“That is one strong point against him. Here is another. Do you remember where Walter Brooklyn thought he had left his stick on Tuesday afternoon? He went back to look for it, you remember.”
The inspector thought for a moment. “In Carter Woodman’s office,” he said at last.
“Well, then, isn’t it clear that he
