"Why did Prospero do it?—that's what I can't understand."
"Paranoia, Ted—delusion of persecution: he worked with you, so he chose you for his best hallucination. Thought you were stealing his great idea about electricity direct from coal."
"How do you know? Did he leave a confession sticking out of his right boot?" I tried what I imagined to be sarcasm.
"No, but he used to tell me all about it. Said you dogged his every step. I warned you, Ted, to look out for him. I never thought he'd pull anything off in the factory with three hundred workmen all around. Outside, I judged you were pretty safe—besides, his time was 'most up. I guess I was a little careless, Ted."
"What did the police say? Were they interested?"
"Not much, after they heard my story. The Chief is a good friend of mine—I play pinochle with him Saturday nights. He thinks it just as well for you to look in at the Coroner's office some day when you are all right—just to dictate a little account of how it happened. He wants it to complete his records."
I marvelled at this easy-going, personally conducted justice.
"How about the circus woman?"
"Oh, we let her go. What was the use? She has an alibi a mile long."
"Do you mean to say all this can happen without any one being interested enough to require an investigation?"