"What were the wires for?" asked Mr. Kettridge.
"That's what I've been wanting to find out. Originally I think they were for some system of burglar alarm installed by Mrs. Darcy. But now those wires run to the work bench that was used by James Darcy."
"To his work bench?" The manager was obviously startled.
"Yes. But don't jump at conclusions. You know he was working on an electric lathe he hoped to patent. Those wires may be merely part of his equipment,"
"Yes, and they may—wait a minute!" suddenly exclaimed the manager. "I wonder—"
From his private office, into which he had ushered the colonel, he looked down the store. It was almost deserted now, save for a few customers and the clerks.
"It's the same place!" murmured the manager,
"What is?" asked the detective.
"Miss Brill was shocked, and fell at the very spot where the dead body of Mrs. Darcy was found!" said Mr. Kettridge in a low, intense voice. "Except for the fact that she fell behind the showcase and Mrs. Darcy in front of it, the place is the same!"
With a muttered exclamation the colonel got to his feet and also looked out from the private office.