“That’s the way it seemed to me,” Keeley said. “Now, listen, Gray, and we’ll tell you all. We have tried to think Alma is shielding somebody, somebody maybe that is a victim of dementia praecox. We thought of the two Merivales and we considered their daughter, Dora. Any of the three are possible, you see. Then, owing to some things March noticed when making his search at Whistling Reeds, we had a new suspicion. He observed two breakfast trays, in the pantry cupboard, that had the general effect of being in frequent use and the dining table was used for two. He observed a can of cocoa, though he had been told that Miss Remsen had always coffee for her breakfast. He thought the guest room showed signs of being in use when there was no acknowledged company there. Indeed, he brought that lot of stuff on the table from the guest room waste basket. As you see, there are bits of jewellery and a lot of beads and such odds and ends. Those are the things a demented person throws away. Also, there are bits of the waistcoats that have been so much talked about. Well, we came to the conclusion that there was another inmate of that house beside Alma Remsen. Some relative or friend she was shielding, or perhaps the nurse or her daughter. Again, it might be a man, say, an unacknowledged brother or cousin, whose very existence had been kept secret. Anyway, there was a very decided mystery to be unravelled at Whistling Reeds. But then, Posy May’s stories and Jennie’s, too, brought it all back to Alma herself, and while we hated to do it we had to find out. And the surest way was through Doctor Rogers. So I telegraphed him at a dozen or more different places where he might possibly be found, and one of them hit its mark.”
Keeley drew a telegram from his pocket and passed it over to me. It sounded cryptic, for it ran thus:
YES A R VICTIM OF D P RECORDS IN MY SAFE LINCOLN HOLDS KEY.
“And so,” March said, rising, “we are just going over to the office of Doctor Rogers to investigate the matter. You may go or not, as you wish.”
“Don’t go, Gray,” Lora said, gently. “It is not necessary and will only cause you suffering. Keeley will tell you all when he comes back. You stay here with me.”
“Thank you, Lora, dear,” I said, “but I must go. I must know every development as it takes place. I’m a little dazed with this news from the doctor, but I can’t help feeling there’s a mistake somewhere. It can’t be that Alma——”
I stopped suddenly, for I remembered seeing her on the lake that night, and hearing her say afterward that she never went on the lake in the evening. Then, when she had these attacks, she acted without knowledge of what she was doing. If she had, under these conditions, killed her uncle, she was of course in no way responsible, and would not be held so.
Maud and Lora looked sorrowfully after us, and we three went down the path to the drive and got into Keeley’s car.
At Doctor Rogers’s office we found his assistant in charge. He had but a few of the doctor’s cases to look after and these were the simpler ones. Serious matters had been placed in the hands of more skilled practitioners, and some few important ones, we were told, were given over to specialists.
March showed him the telegram and asked what it meant.