Mr. Conroy passed a weary hand over his high brow, and that vivid picture seemed suddenly to float before the eyes of every occupant of the court.
“You did not see a weapon?”
“No. I could not swear that one was not there, but certainly I did not see one.”
“I understood you to say that you locked the front door of the gardener’s cottage with one of the keys that you found on the ring under the mat. How many keys were on that ring?”
“Seven or eight, I think—a key to the lodge, to the garage opposite the lodge, to the gardener’s cottage, to the farmer’s house, to the front and back doors of the main house, and to the cellar—possibly others.”
“Didn’t it ever strike you as a trifle imprudent to keep these keys in such an unprotected spot, Mr. Conroy?”
“We did not consider it an unprotected spot, sir. The gardener’s cottage was a long way from the road, and it did not seem at all likely that they would be discovered.”
“Whom do you mean by ‘we,’ Mr. Conroy?”
Mr. Conroy made a small restless movement. “I was referring to Mr. Douglas Thorne and myself.”
“Oh, Mr. Thorne knew that the keys were kept there, did he?”