Bawdsey scratched his head. "I wonder who did kill Eliza," he muttered, "if Lola is innocent and I am innocent?" He looked at Brendon.
"I can't help you," replied George, rising; "the thing is quite beyond me. It must have been some one in the house."
"No," replied Bawdsey, positively; "remember, Mr. Train heard a door close--the front door--some time about half-past eleven."
"That was you, was it not?"
"No sir. I did not arrive till close on twelve, and Mrs. Jersey was already dead. The door must have been opened and closed by the murderer, and he left just before I arrived."
"But how could he have entered? You alone had the latch-key. As to Lola, she slipped in while Mrs. Jersey was dismissing her guests."
Bawdsey shook his head. "I can't understand it, sir. Of course there was another gentleman who had the house for a short time." He looked meaningly at Brendon.
George looked puzzled. "What do you mean?" he asked.
"Well, sir," began Bawdsey, with his invariable formula, "I don't like to mention names, and I am sure what I say will go no further, but there is Mr. Ireland----"
Brendon started to his feet with an agitated face. "Ireland! Oh, no, that is impossible," he declared, "quite impossible! Why should he have a latch-key?"