"I did."
"When did you have it last, to your knowledge?"
"I had it on Wednesday. I went to Utica, Wednesday night, and next morning I missed the key. I concluded that I must have left it at my office, but when I returned there I could not find it, and I felt considerable alarm, for one does not like to lose the key of a client's box."
"No," said Mr. Buckner, grimly; "it is not a good thing to do. And where do you think you lost it?"
"I've no idea; but as it was in my pocket, and I must have pulled it out unintentionally, and dropped it unknowingly, it may have happened in the train or on the street or anywhere. Where was it found?"
"This is the key of which we told you; the key that was found in Mr. Pembroke's bed yesterday morning."
"What! Impossible!" cried Leroy and his face turned white and his dark eyes fairly glared. "How could Robert Pembroke have come into possession of that key?"
"We don't assume, Mr. Leroy, that Mr. Pembroke ever had this key in his possession. As it was found in the bed, not under the pillow, but beside the body of the dead man, we think it seems to indicate at least a possibility that it was dropped there by the murderer as he leaned over his victim."
This came so near to being a direct accusation, that I fully expected Leroy to exclaim with anger. But instead, though his face grew even whiter than before, he said very quietly: "Am I to understand that as an implication that I may be guilty of this crime?"