Jennings hesitated. "That is a difficult matter. Of course, if I find the assassin, even if he or she is one of your friends, I must do my duty."
"Oh, I don't expect anything of that sort," said Mallow easily, "but why do you say 'he' or 'she'?"
"Well, the person who killed Miss Loach might be a woman."
"I don't see how you make that out," said Cuthbert reflectively. "I read the case coming up in the train to-day, and it seems to me from what The Planet says that the whole thing is a mystery."
"One which I mean to dive into and discover," replied Miles. "I do not care for an ordinary murder case, but this is one after my own heart. It is a criminal problem which I should like to work out."
"Do you see your way as yet?" asked Cuthbert.
"No," confessed Jennings, "I do not. I saw the report you speak of. The writer theorizes without having facts to go on. What he says about the bell is absurd. All the same, the bell did ring and the assassin could not have escaped at the time it sounded. Nor could the deceased have rung it. Therein lies the mystery, and I can't guess how the business was managed."
"Do you believe the assassin rang the bell?"
Miles shrugged his shoulders and sipped his coffee. "It is impossible to say. I will wait until I have more facts before me before I venture an opinion. It is only in detective novels that the heaven-born Vidocq can guess the truth on a few stray clues. But what were you going to tell me?"
"Will you keep what I say to yourself?"