“A good stock,” he said, “for pushing.” Then he added after a short pause:
“Mrs. Parlin, at the inquest you expressed in the strongest terms your confidence that the statement presented was actually written by your husband. Have you had any cause since to change your mind?”
“Not the slightest,” she said. “On the contrary, the facts there stated account for many things that were strange to me before. There is no question as to the facts, and none as to his having written them.”
“That being the case, they can have nothing to do with the murder. The only other person who knew these facts was directly interested in keeping them concealed. Even admitting, as might be possible, that in order effectually to prevent exposure, she had been capable of killing or having her son killed, would she find any likelihood of this in a murder that would centre on him the interest of the entire State? Of course, she did not know of the existence of this paper, and she could not know that the murder would make the case public, but she would know that if he knew the facts, and had any interest in their publicity, he would have acted long ago. She would also know that if you knew the facts, your interest was that of secrecy, the chance of which would be diminished in the excitement of a murder case. Now that’s my reasoning, and through it I reach the conclusion that the facts revealed in that statement have nothing to do with the murder. I have since confirmed this by facts outside those from which I reasoned. I haven’t told a soul this before, not even McManus. I don’t want a soul save you to know it now; not even McManus. But now I’m going to ask you a question, which I believe has some bearing upon the causes of the murder, and that is: Why, if Mr. Wing had for two years been keeping many of his business papers at home, was there not one of them in his desk or safe the morning the murder was discovered?”
“No papers in his desk or safe?” she said, while a look almost of terror came over her face. “You must be mistaken! Why, there was a package on his desk, lying right on the writing-pad, when I bade him good-night.”
“Would you recognise it again if you saw it?”
“Yes.”
“Then look through the safe and see if you can find it.”
He opened the safe and she went through it package by package, while he waited with that patience that comes of long training, until, the search finished, she looked up and said:
“It isn’t here!”