“Ladies and gentlemen, the authorities have come. Mr. Rawson and Mr. Williams.”
They bowed and then not knowing what to do next, subsided into their seats. The men came forward, moving to the long table where Williams sat down, fumbling in his pocket for a fountain pen and paper and clearing a space for the taking of notes. Rawson, surveying the seated assemblage, said:
“This is the whole of your company, Mr. Bassett?”
“All who were here at the time of the murder. Several of the actors and assistants left at five-thirty and Joe Tracy, one of the company at a quarter to seven.”
“You saw them go?”
“I saw the first lot go. I didn’t see Tracy. But,” he looked at Anne, “this is his sister, Miss Tracy. She probably did.”
“Did you, Miss Tracy?” said Rawson.
Her voice was very low but steady and clear:
“Yes, he went.”
“Well, that disposes of them,” said Rawson, and drawing up a chair, sat down facing the line of solemn people.