“What?”
“I said, supposing he lived there. He’d want to go up to bed, wouldn’t he?”
“Good Lord, you’re surely not suggesting that somebody in the house murdered old Stanworth, are you?” Alec asked in horrified tones.
Roger relit his pipe with some care.
“Not necessarily, but you keep asking me why he should want to get back into the house, and I give you the most obvious explanation. As a matter of fact, I should say that he probably wanted to communicate with somebody inside before making his escape.”
“Then you don’t think it was somebody from inside the house who killed Stanworth?” Alec asked with some relief.
“Heaven only knows,” Roger replied laconically. “No, perhaps on second thoughts I don’t. We mustn’t forget that Jefferson couldn’t find those keys this morning. Unless that was a blind, by Jove! I never thought of that. Or he might have forgotten something important and wanted to get at the safe again, not realising that he’d put the keys back in the wrong pocket.”
“I suppose,” Alec said slowly, “that Jefferson is the only person inside the house that you would suspect of having done it?”
“No, I’m hanged if he is,” Roger retorted with energy.
“Oh! Who else then?”