His eyes gleamed for an instant and an excited smile curved his heavy lips.
“The case turned out much simpler than we actually expected,” continued Norton. “We got our first clew within a few hours after the murder. We found out Miss Ballau had received a telephone call at the theater at 9:30 on the night of the crime. The stage manager had called her to the phone. He stood within hearing distance while she talked. He heard her say something like, ‘Yes ... yes. Oh, God!’ And he noticed she was upset when she hung up. She told him she felt sick. He tried to argue with her but she dashed out of the theater without changing her costume or taking the paint off her face.”
“A revelation,” murmured De Medici. His spirits seemed to have risen as the detective talked. Dr. Lytton sat with his lips pursed, dividing his attention between the two men.
“I knew you knew about the telephone call,” Norton went on good-naturedly, “and I don’t blame you for trying to shield the girl.”
“Gallant,” sighed De Medici. “Thanks. Go on.”
“Well,” resumed Norton, “we finally located the cabby who had driven her home. This took a few hours, but when we got him he remembered her well, owing to the fact she had her make-up and costume on and acted queer and excited. She got into his cab outside the theater and drove to the Ballau apartment, giving him a dollar tip in advance and telling him to go as fast as he could. Her contention at the inquest was that she reached the apartment about half-past ten. From the stage manager’s evidence and the cabby’s statement it is obvious that she got home about a quarter to ten the latest. If she’d stopped at all between the telephone call and entering the cab she’d have removed her make-up and taken her hat or a wrap of some kind. We know she didn’t. Our investigations in the Ballau home resulted in finding a towel in the linen basket off Miss Ballau’s room. The towel was smeared with rouge and lampblack. We found out that the basket had been emptied that afternoon by the laundryman. Therefore the towel with the rouge and lampblack on it was placed there during that day.”
“Your deductions are invulnerable,” De Medici smiled.
“We’ll discuss them more fully later,” Norton countered, his good humor remaining under the derision of his visitor. “You don’t seem convinced that Miss Ballau is guilty?” He smiled in turn.
De Medici shook his head.
“Despite his good humor,” he thought, “he’s uncertain of something. The theory has a hole in it.... Or he wouldn’t be telling me. Or perhaps it’s another one of his brilliant ruses....”