“You’re quite sure?”
“Absolutely.”
“Oh, God!” whispered the reporter frantically. “Oh, God, they’ve got him!”
“It’s strange that you should be so sure, Mr. Bellamy,” said the prosecutor more gently still. “Because there was no piano in the room to which you were taken to see the body.”
“What?” The bent head jerked back as though a whip had flicked.
“There was no piano in the dining room to which they had removed the body, Mr. Bellamy. The piano was in the parlour across the hall, where the body was first discovered.”
“If that is so I must have seen it when I came in and confused it somehow.”
“You couldn’t very well have seen it when you came in, I’m afraid. The door to the parlour was closed and locked so that the contents of the room would not be disturbed.”
“Well, then—then I must remember it from some previous occasion.”
“A previous occasion? When you were never in the cottage before?”