McCann was alarmed, and he had difficulty not to show it.
“Are you sure she isn’t lying?” he said, clenching his fists behind his back.
“Yes, I’m sure of that,” Conrad returned, “but you can judge for yourself when you hear what she has to say.”
Forest sat down and took out his cigar-case.
“Tell me about Weiner first,” he said.
“There’s not much to tell,” Conrad said. “It was damned bad luck. He had a bath tonight. O’Brien and I took him to the bathroom, and O’Brien thoroughly searched the room before Weiner went in. We waited outside. After twenty minutes I called Weiner to come out, but he didn’t answer. We found the door locked. We broke it down and found him drowned in the bath. The Doc said he had a superficial injury at the back of his head. He thinks Weiner got into the bath, came over faint, tipped back and banged his head on the taps.”
“People usually face the taps when they take a bath,” Forest pointed out.
“Yes, but apparently Weiner didn’t. Anyway, he was dead by the time we got him out, and there was nothing we could do for him.”
“Are you quite sure no one could have got at him, Paul? It seems odd to me that the door was locked.”
“It seems odd to me, too, but I’m certain no one could have got into the bathroom while he was in it. The window is much too small. It would take a dwarf a good ten minutes to wriggle through, and in that time Weiner could have raised the alarm. No, I’m positive it was an accident.”