“The man was sure of himself!” said Drew without thinking. “He has his plans made. He figures they will not fail!”
“Oh, you mean––”
“I mean, Miss Stockbridge, that he expects to slay you in the same manner your father was slain. We have this advantage. You are not alone in this room or these rooms. Your father was alone. The murderer will have Mr. Nichols and myself to deal with this time! Be calm.”
“But—I don’t see how he could—get in here?”
“Nor do I. The point is that he got into the library and out again without trace. He had an hour to do his work in. Here, he is running every risk.”
“But he has already been here, Mr. Drew.”
The detective glanced keenly at Nichols, who had shot the statement straight through clean white teeth.
“I know it,” Drew said with a trace of anxiety in his voice. “That is disquieting. But we have searched these rooms and found absolutely no trace of tampering with locks or ventilators or window-catches.”
“Could he climb up here? He might have climbing irons,” added Nichols glancing toward the windows.
“A good porch-climber could do it,” Drew mused, with his eyes sweeping the curtains. “A very good one could. There are only three or four good ones out of prisons. They never go in for murder.”