“Please tell us who they were.”
“There was the cook, Anna Baker; the waitress, Melanie Cordier; the chambermaid, Katie Brien; and Laura Roberts, Mrs. Ives’s personal maid and seamstress. They had four small rooms in the left wing, third floor. James and Robert MacDonald, the chauffeur and gardener, were brothers and lived in quarters over the garage. Oh, there was a laundress, too, but I don’t remember her name. She didn’t live in the house—only came in four days a week.”
“You have described the entire household?”
“Yes.”
“And the entire layout of the house?”
“Yes—well, with the exception of the service quarters. You reached them through a door at the back of the big hall—kitchen, laundry, servants’ dining room and pantry, which opened also into the dining room. They ran across the back of the house. Do you want me to describe them further?”
“Thanks, no. We can go on with your story now. Did you see anyone but Mr. Ives on your way to the sand pile?”
“Not in the house. I passed Mrs. Daniel Ives on my way through the rose garden. She always used to work there after dinner until it got dark. She asked me as I went by if the children were asleep, and I told her that Mr. Ives was with them.”
“What did you do then?”
“I found the book in the swing by the sand pile and went back across the lawn to the house. As I was starting up the steps, I heard Mrs. Patrick Ives’s voice, speaking from the flower room at the left of the front door. She was speaking very softly, but the window on to the porch was open and I could hear her distinctly.”