“Hey — Mayhew!”
It was Cardona’s voice from the courtyard. Detective Sergeant Mayhew shouted in response.
“Any one come down this way?”
“No,” cried Cardona. “I’ve been here five minutes. Thought I saw something that looked like a ladder up on the wall. Kept the glimmer off it. Was there a shot?”
“Yes!” shouted Mayhew. “The man must still be here! I have help!”
“We’ll cover from down here,” answered Cardona.
Mayhew slipped back into the room. He hastened to find the man who was guarding the door.
“Stay posted here,” said Mayhew grimly. “There’s a dead man in the other room. The killer couldn’t have gotten out by the window. I’ll look for him. Send the patrolmen in when I call.”
In the study, Mayhew looked about him. There was no place where a man could hide. It was impossible for the second man to have escaped by the window.
Yet there must have been a slayer, for there, almost at Mayhew’s feet, lay the dead man, shot through the heart.