"Tell me why Martinez did it."
Coquenil's face darkened. "Ah, that's the question. We'll know that when we talk to the woman."
The old man leaned forward eagerly: "Why do you think the woman helped him?"
"Somebody helped him or the chips would still be there, somebody held back those hangings while he worked the auger, and somebody carried the auger away."
Tignol pondered this, a moment, then, his face brightening: "Hah! I see! The sofa hangings were held back when the shot came, then they fell into place and covered the holes?"
"That's it," replied the detective absently.
"And the man in Number Seven, the murderer, lifted that picture from its nail before shooting and then put it back on the nail after shooting?"
"Yes, yes," agreed M. Paul. Already he was far away on a new line of thought, while the other was still grappling with his first surprise.
"Then this murderer must have known that the billiard player was going to bore these holes," went on Papa Tignol half to himself. "He must have been waiting in Number Seven, he must have stood there with his pistol ready while the holes were coming through, he must have let Martinez finish one hole and then bore the other, he must have kept Number Seven dark so they couldn't see him——"
"A good point, that," approved Coquenil, paying attention. "He certainly kept Number Seven dark."