"Yes, it was taken in a mirror. I came quite by accident into the museum, and she was so taken up with examining the diamond, that she did not notice my presence until I had already photographed her. I knew she was doing something wrong, and thought there would be no harm in photographing her."
"Why did you turn toward the glass, instead of taking the photograph direct? You stood behind her, did you not?"
"Well, yes," said the Englishman, looking suspiciously at Monk, whose face was immovable. "Yes, I did. It was by mere chance I turned my apparatus toward the glass."
"How did the diabolical idea enter your head to make use of the photograph as evidence against Miss Frick?"
"Diabolical or not diabolical, she had offended me, no matter how, and I revenged myself. I had never taken a photograph in a mirror before, and so I examined the picture with the magnifying glass. You know how interested I am in snap-shots."
"Oh, yes; and then you observed all that about the clock—the right and left hands, and all the rest of it?"
"Exactly; it occurred to me that it might turn out unpleasant enough for Miss Frick. So I waited till the case came before the court, and then I sent a note to the counsel for the defence, which told him how he could get his client off."
"How did you know Miss Frick had been to the pawnbroker's? Speak out; for the sooner this is over, the better."
"Well, I knew young Frick had got into difficulties—the young greenhorn would insist on playing high with me and my friends—and I knew, too, that he had written his uncle's name on a bill for four thousand kroners."
"And you did not help him? It would have been an easy matter for you."