“I don’t take much stock in servants’ stories.”
“You’re wrong there, my man. That principle is a good one in ordinary matters, but when it comes to a murder case, a servant’s testimony is as good as his master’s.”
Burdon made no direct response to Keefe’s suggestion, but he mulled it over in his slow-going mind, and as a result, he had a talk with Rachel, who was ladies’ maid to both Maida and her mother.
The girl bridled a little when Burdon began to question her.
“Nobody seemed to think it worth while to ask me anything,” she said, “so I held my tongue. But if so be you want information, you ask and I’ll answer.”
“I doubt if she really knows anything,” Burdon thought to himself, judging from her air of self-importance, but he said:
“Tell me anything you know of the circumstances at the time of the murder.”
“Circumstances?” repeated Rachel, wrinkling her brow.
“Yes; for instance, where was Mrs. Wheeler when you heard the shot?”
“I didn’t say I heard the shot.”