His right leg was crossed over his left in a
positionof comfortable relaxation.
A pair of low evening shoes were standing by the
bench at thefoot of the bed.
Theadded clarity of vision it gave him seemed
subtly to affect hisclarity of mind. This was the last she had seen him
alive.
Then she repliedin a low voice, In that hidden
drawer there in the center table.
Bensonsdinner jacket and white piqué waistcoat were
hanging over a chair.
As we rode uptown that morning Markham appeared
preoccupied andgloomy. But surely you would have known if the bell rang,
insistedMarkham. Markham, heexplained in a low, well-modulated voice.
When he had gone, Markham turned to the assistant
district attorney.
Consequently, she had dismissed the matterfrom her
mind, and gone back to sleep. You see, Heath explained; he was shot directly from
the front.
Well, now, Heath replied, with ponderous
facetiousness, I deductthat Mr. Excellent, Markham commented; and then, with a nod,
referred thematter to Heath.
I was tempted to let the case follow the regular
police routine. Two of my men will be herefor a while yet.
She had then remembered Bensonsbrother, Major
Anthony Benson, and had telephoned him also. Markham glanced at itfrowningly and
pursed his lips.
Heath then addressed one of the two men who had
been inspecting thegrilles of the front windows.
You now see, Vance, observed Markham, the
importance of thosecigarette butts. Then after a few momentshesitation, he addressed
himself again to the housekeeper. Ave, Caesar, te salutamus, whispered Vance,
grinning.
It looks as though weare in for a bit of trouble
before its finished. His right leg was crossed over his left in a positionof
comfortable relaxation. For the first time during the interview, the woman
appearedagitated, even frightened. Then she repliedin a low voice, In that hidden
drawer there in the center table. He was a nervous man with a heavily seamed face
and the manner of areal estate salesman.
To the left of this window werethe sliding doors
leading into the dining room at the rear. Yes, and I imagine the bag belongs to the
womanBenson was out with last night.
Certainly not, the other agreed readily, although I
felt that hewould rather not have had me along. Nobody in the car, or anyone hanging
aroundwho might have been the owner? In the rear of the room, near the dining room
door, stood two othermen talking earnestly together. He was aqueer man in many ways,
but everybody seemed to like him.