"That was locked."
"It always is; but it might have been open for all I know on that night. I knew someone was there, and guessed that it was a man, as I smelt the peculiar scent of Harris tweed so strongly. I fancied that Eddy Vail had not gone away, but had come back."
"You mean that he had remained in the house?" corrected Perry Toat.
"Oh, yes. At all events, I fancied it was Eddy; so, not wishing to get myself into trouble with Madame, as she might have asked him to stay, I went upstairs and said nothing. Next day I learnt about the murder, and both Madame and Eddy said that he had really left the house. Then I became certain that there had been a stranger in the passage."
"Rosy Pearl, perhaps?"
"No. She was sleeping upstairs. But you may guess that I said nothing to anyone about what I had heard and smelt."
"Why did you not? It might have given Inspector Lanton a clue."
Parizade shuddered. "Oh, I didn't want to be mixed up with the police. It was best, I thought, to hold my tongue. I never told anyone until you came and said you were a detective."
"Well, and why did you tell me? You were frightened when I told you my profession, if I remember rightly."
"Yes. But, somehow, your being a woman made it seem better. I don't mind a lady detective. Then when you told about the reward I thought I might help you and get half, so that I might marry Walter."