“A quite proper question, Miss Cowper. What made me take that view was a very strong conviction that the clues—the second set of clues, I mean—pointed far too directly to Mr. Brooklyn. They looked as if they had been deliberately laid. I ought to have seen that at once; but I was put off by the other set of clues—the obviously false ones—that the police were meant to see through from the first. It took me a little time to realise that the murderer had been clever enough to lay two separate sets of false clues—one meant to be seen through, and one meant to mislead.”
“Yes, we got to that, too, though we didn’t put it quite as you do.”
“Quite so. Well, as soon as I reached that conclusion, it became clear that the murderer had strong reasons for removing, not only your two cousins, but also your stepfather. My next step, therefore, was to discover who would be most likely to inherit Sir Vernon Brooklyn’s money if Mr. Walter Brooklyn was safely out of the way.”
“So that brought you to Carter Woodman at once?”
“In a sense, yes. But of course at that stage I had no sort of proof. I set out to prove what was only a theory.”
“Yes, that was what we did. Tell us what you found out,” said Ellery, half-rising from his chair in his excitement.
“You remember that Mr. Walter Brooklyn’s stick was found in Mr. Prinsep’s room. Well, I succeeded in proving that Mr. Brooklyn had left that stick in Carter Woodman’s office on the day of the murders.”
“Lord, we never thought of that,” said Ellery.
“Moorman, whom you know, admitted that to me, not knowing who I was. I got it out of him when he thought I was merely a client taking an outside interest in the case. He didn’t realise that it was of importance.”
“And that was your proof?” asked Joan, with an air of disappointment.