To Lanagan’s ranging mind, the thing was as clear as print. He had traced his connection past Fogarty down to the last figure in the combination. It was a “long shot,” perhaps, that Leighton had put the real heir out of the way in order to impose an imposture on the estate and thus divide probably a full half; but it was on “long shots” that Lanagan’s extraordinary brain usually won out.
The narratives were ended. Lanagan turned to Leslie:
“I want Peters here, Chief, to give the last note to my story. To prevent any ‘leak’ from the county jail, I will have Haddon get Superior Judge Dunlevy to telephone a verbal order of release to the jail for Peters to be brought to the city to see his council. It’s rather unusual, but has been done before, and Dunlevy will do it. I think I’ll get Haddon in for the finals, too. He’s been in the case pretty deep.”
It was probably an hour later before Haddon dropped into the room. He had sent a machine for Peters, Dunlevy telephoning the order. A few moments later Peters, in charge of a deputy sheriff, entered and in brief and business-like fashion the facts were laid before him. It was a little too much for him to grasp all at once.
When he finally did, it was the Englishman who brought matters to a business basis by remarking:
“Leighton certainly seems to have been extremely positive about the identity of Mrs. Peters. Did you know that she was Gertrude Pendelton?”
“Sir,” said Peters, “I married my wife as I found her, and I asked no questions. She made me a good wife. She never talked about herself or her people.”
“Did she have any keepsakes, any old trinkets, any pictures?”
Peters unbuttoned his shirt. “Only this,” he said, producing a locket attached to a fine gold chain. “She asked me to wear it when she was taken to bed, and if anything happened, to give it to the babe. The police missed it in searching me. It’s her father and mother, I think, although she never said.”
With eager fingers Holmes opened the old-fashioned locket.