"It might be so," muttered Mrs. Fane. "The dagger was a stage one, and I knew from Laura that he wore one in the second act of the play."
"He used the dagger and then threw it away into the dustbin."
"Nonsense," said Mrs. Fane, with a shrug. "How could he get to the dustbin when the back of the house was locked up?"
This was a puzzle to Bocaros, but he faced it boldly. "Calvert entered the house by your connivance, and could easily have unbarred the back door to conceal his weapon."
"Oh!" Mrs. Fane looked sharply at her visitor. "So you accuse me of admitting the man?"
"I do. You had your husband's latch-key, or had a copy made. You expected Calvert, and admitted him. Afterwards you gave him the key to let himself out while you averted suspicion by singing."
"Indeed! And how did I escape?"
"You had plenty of time. You can drive a motor-car, madame, as I know, so you took Mr. Tracey's and went to Charing-Cross Station----"
"On the way to Westcliff-on-Sea. Rather a roundabout way."
"Madame, you are very clever, and wished to avert suspicion. You left the car in the station yard, and then took the underground to Liverpool Street Station, where you caught the midnight express to Southend."