“You know of no one likely to have had a grudge against this man?” he asked.
“No.”
“There is no one else who has a key to your rooms?”
“No one except my maid, who is away in Wiltshire.”
“The inference is, then,” the detective said smoothly, “that this man obtained admission to your rooms by means of a false key, that he burnt some papers here and shot himself within a few moments of your return. Either that or some other person also obtained admission here and shot him, and that person is either still upon the premises or escaped without your notice.”
“I suppose,” Anna said, “that those are reasonable deductions.”
The detective thrust his notebook into his pocket.
“I brought a man with me who is posted outside,” he remarked. “With your permission I should like to search the remainder of your rooms.”
Anna showed him the way.
“Have either of you been out of this room since you discovered what had happened?” he asked.