"Now, sir," he said, "don't let's waste any time. Sooner we can get to work the more likely we are to catch our man. Now, you was 'ere at the time, was you?"
Brotherton stared a moment, then, making a violent effort, he answered steadily:
"I was in the sitting-room, smoking and reading the paper. My—she—was getting the dinner ready in here. I heard her give a scream, and I rushed in and found her lying on the floor. She didn't have time to say anything. When I found she was dead, I rushed to the window, and saw the fellow scrambling away over the glass roof there. I yelled at him, but he disappeared. Then I ran down——"
"'Arf a mo'," said the policeman. "Now, see 'ere, sir, didn't you think to go after 'im at once?"
"My first thought was for her," said the man. "I thought maybe she wasn't dead. I tried to bring her round——" His speech ended in a groan.
"You say he came in through the window," said the policeman.
"I beg your pardon, officer," interrupted Lord Peter, who had been apparently making a mental inventory of the contents of the kitchen. "Mr. Brotherton suggested that the man went out through the window. It's better to be accurate."
"It's the same thing," said the doctor. "It's the only way he could have come in. These flats are all alike. The staircase door leads into the sitting-room, and Mr. Brotherton was there, so the man couldn't have come that way."
"And," said Peter, "he didn't get in through the bedroom window, or we should have seen him. We were in the room below. Unless, indeed, he let himself down from the roof. Was the door between the bedroom and the sitting-room open?" he asked suddenly, turning to Brotherton.
The man hesitated a moment. "Yes," he said finally. "Yes, I'm sure it was."