“We think he's in New York, but haven't yet been able to locate him at Mr. Crawford's office there, or at his club. He is engaged to Miss Lloyd, though I understand that the engagement is contrary to Mr. Crawford's wishes.”
“And where is Miss Lloyd,—and Mrs. Pierce?”
“They are both in their rooms. Mrs. Pierce is prostrated at the tragedy, and Miss Lloyd simply refuses to make her appearance.”
“But she'll have to attend the inquest?”
“Oh, yes, of course. She'll be with us then. I think I won't say anything about her to you, as I'd rather you'd see her first with entirely unprejudiced eyes.”
“So you, too, think Miss Lloyd is implicated?”
“I don't think anything about it, Mr. Burroughs. As coroner it is not my place to think along such lines.”
“Well, everybody else thinks so,” broke in Parmalee. “And why? Because there's no one else for suspicion to light on. No one else who by any possibility could have done the deed.”
“Oh, come now, Mr. Parmalee,” said I, “there must be others. They may not yet have come to our notice, but surely you must admit an intruder could have come into the room by way of those long, open windows.”
“These speculations are useless, gentlemen,” said Mr. Monroe, with his usual air of settling the matter. “Cease then, I beg, or at least postpone them. If you are walking down the avenue, Mr. Parmalee, perhaps you'll be good enough to conduct Mr. Burroughs to the Sedgwick Arms, where he doubtless can find comfortable accommodations.”