Though I had a vague feeling of fear as to the result of this day's work, yet I knew it must be gone through with, and I prepared to face whatever might be before me.
Together we went to the District Attorney's office.
Mr. Buckner was much impressed by the fact of Fleming Stone's connection with the case, for it was well known that the great detective accepted only puzzling problems. It was quite evident, however, that the District Attorney could see no reason for more than one opinion as to the Pembroke tragedy.
"Here are the clues," said Mr. Buckner, as he arranged the collection on his desk.
The torn telegram was not among them, and I realized that Buckner had excluded that, because the letter from Jonathan Scudder practically denied it.
Fleming Stone glanced at the key and the handkerchief with the briefest attention. He picked up the ticket stubs and the time-table, but after a moment's scrutiny he laid them down again, murmuring, as if to himself, "Clever, very clever!"
"Mr. Buckner," he said at last, "these clues seem to me all to point to the same criminal, and a most ingenious person as well."
"You speak in riddles, Mr. Stone," said the District Attorney, "I confess I thought these articles of but slight importance, as they have been traced each to a different owner."
"Even so," said Stone, "they are distinctly indicative, and form a large share of the evidence piling up against the criminal. But a far more important clue is the weapon with which Mr. Pembroke was killed. Will you show me that?"
Buckner took the pin from a drawer and offered it to Mr. Stone, saying, "There is the weapon. If the head of the hat-pin had been left on, it might be traced to the woman who used it. But as she broke it off, this small portion cannot be traced. She doubtless broke the head off purposely, thus proving herself, as you have already remarked, Mr. Stone, a very clever criminal."