Mason nodded.
“Well, probably we can find it if we look through this box of scraps, but, for the life of me, I can’t see what...”
Steele said, “I noticed it lying here on the bench last night. There it is, over there near the corner. He used it to set a paint can on.”
Mason picked up the circular tin top and examined the distinctive place where it had been twisted off.
“This the one?” he asked.
“That’s it,” Steele said. “I remember that little distinctive twist on the tin. You can see where it was turned...”
Mason’s eyes showed keen interest. “Wait a minute,” he said. “This isn’t right.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
Mason said, “The lid that was on the tin was twisted off to the left. This one is twisted off to the right.”
Steele bent forward and regarded the circular piece of tin, then went over to look at the can. “Well, I’ll be darned,” he said. “I saw that piece of tin lying here on the counter last night and naturally supposed it had come off this can. Why in the world would Mr. Gentrie have opened the can, thrown the top away, then taken the top from another tin out of that box of scraps? But Gentrie is left-handed. You’re right about that top — but, why...?”