Tracey sneered. "People of your sort don't kill themselves. Well, how long did you hide?"
"I can't say. Till some time after ten. Then I heard the front door close and stole out. I went up to the White Room. The body was still undisturbed. I wondered how I could get away and down to Southend so as to establish an alibi. Then I waited and heard you come in. Yes, I heard the door open. I concealed myself behind the hangings of the room. I saw you enter. You started when you saw the dead and recognised the body, to my surprise. Arnold, how was it you never knew me as Flora's husband?"
"I saw very little of my cousin," said Arnold, "and she scarcely spoke of you."
"But the photographs?"
"I never saw any of you."
"Yet there were several. Afterwards, when all was quiet, and after the body was buried, I went to the Hampstead house and removed all papers and photographs so that my connection with Flora might not be known."
"You forgot a photograph that Derrick found, and one that I picked up," said Tracey; "then there was a diary."
"I never thought of the diary," said Fane, passing his hand across his face, "yet I should have. Flora told me she kept one, and I might have guessed she would set down everything. But I was in such terror at being discovered in the Hampstead house that I forgot."
"You were a coward right through," said Arnold coldly; "however, go on. What happened after you saw me?"
"I waited. You went down the stairs evidently in a great fright. As you recognised the body I knew you would not call in the police, as you apparently fancied you might be accused. When you left I went to the window to see you go out. I saw the officer passing, and then to make him think that people were in the house, and to drive you away, I set the phonograph going."