“It does for a fact,” Steele said.
“Let me see,” Junior insisted, pushing forward with an eager curiosity.
Steele said, “That’s odd. I hadn’t noticed that before. I was down here with the police, too. It’s just a little smear.”
Mason said, “The paint’s dry now. You say it dries in six hours?”
“Yes, four to six hours. That’s what Mr. Gentrie told me. Of course, that’s the only way I have of knowing.”
“Let’s look for that tin,” Rebecca said, moving along the workbench, sniffing and peering at the assortment of tools. “Here’s a can with paint brushes in it. Could this be it, Delman?”
“That’s it,” Delman said. “You can always tell the way Mr. Gentrie opens a can. He never runs the opener all the way around. He stops just before he cuts the lid entirely free. He always leaves a strip of tin of about a sixteenth of an inch, then twists the lid off.”
“That’s right,” Mrs. Gentrie confirmed. “He says that if you go farther than that, the top of the can falls down on the inside. I always hold up the lid and then finish cutting. Arthur twists. You can see where the top of this can was twisted off.”
Mason thoughtfully regarded the tin. “Let’s take a look at the top of the can just to make our investigation complete,” he said.
“At the top of the can!” Mrs. Gentrie asked.