"How do you account for Miss Hesketh—presupposing it was she—being on the train instead of the turnpike?" said Jasper.
"A change of plans," Jones answered calmly, "also not yet satisfactorily cleared up. To continue: Sometime on Sunday the Doctor conceived the plan of ridding himself of all his cares—his troublesome stepdaughter, the disturbance of his home and his financial distress. How," he turned and looked solemnly at us, fate played so well into his hands I can't yet explain—the main point is that it did. He met Miss Hesketh at the Junction, either by threats, persuasion or coercion made her enter his auto and carried her up the road to the turnpike.
"And now," said Babbitts, leaning his arms on the table, "we come to her appearance in the Wayside Arbor."
"We do," Jones replied, nodding his head. "You may remember that both Hines and his servant said there were twigs and leaves on the edge of her skirt and that her boots were muddy. Traces of this were still visible in her clothes when they found her body. She did get out of the automobile, but not so far from the turnpike as he said. Either he and she had some fierce quarrel and she ran from him in rage or terror, or he may have told the truth and she slipped out at the turn from the Riven Rock Road without his knowledge. Anyway she got away from him and ran for the only light she saw. There she telephoned Reddy, withholding the main facts from him, perhaps merely to save time, but cautioning him against letting anyone know of the message. That, as I see it, was a natural feminine desire to guard against gossip. When she thought Reddy was due she started out to meet him—and instead met the Doctor."
"Who'd been hanging about for a half-hour on the roadside?"
"Precisely. He killed her, concealed the body, and went home."
"Just a minute," said Yerrington—"what did he kill her with? The weapon used is a disputed point. Many think it was a farm implement. Did he go across lots to Cresset's and arm himself with a convenient spade or rake for the fatherly purpose of slaying his stepdaughter?"
But you couldn't phase Jones, he said as calm as a May morning:
"He could have done that. But I don't think he did. He didn't need it. The tool box of the car was nearer to hand. A large-sized auto wrench is a pretty formidable weapon, and a tire wrench—did you ever see one? One well-aimed blow of that would crush in the head of a negro."
"Gentlemen, the evidence is all in," said Babbitts.