"I saw the body of the dead woman--indeed, assisted at her autopsy. She was a pronounced brunette--Miss Melrose was a blonde. The mistake in identity was not an impossible one in view of the fact that each wore a mask and had her hair tied up under a veil. That woman was stabbed from the right--still a possibility of suicide."
"Who was the woman?" demanded Curtis. He seemed utterly unable to control himself longer.
"Miss Elizabeth Dow, who was supposed to have eloped with Morgan Mason," was the quiet reply.
Instant amazement was reflected on every face save Reid's, and again every eye was turned to him. Miss Dow's maid burst into tears.
"Mr. Reid knew who the woman was all the time," said The Thinking Machine. "Knowing then that Miss Dow was the dead woman--this belief being confirmed by a monogram gold belt buckle, 'E. D.,' on the body--I proceeded to find out all I could in this direction. The waiters had seen Mr. Reid in the inn; had seen him talking to a masked and veiled lady who had been waiting for nearly an hour; had seen him go into a room with her, but had not seen them leave the inn. Mr. Reid had recognized the lady--not she him. How? By a glimpse of the monogram belt buckle which he knew because he probably gave it to her."
"He did," interposed Hatch.
"I did," said Reid, calmly. It was the first time he had spoken.
"Now, Mr. Reid went into the room and closed the door, carrying with him Mr. Curtis's knife," went on The Thinking Machine. "I can't tell you from _personal observation_ what happened in that room, but I know. Mr. Reid learned in some way that Miss Dow was going to elope; he learned that she had been waiting long past the time when Mason was due there; that she believed he had humiliated her by giving up the idea at the last minute. Being in a highly nervous condition, she lost faith in Mason and in herself, and perhaps mentioned suicide?"
"She did," said Reid, calmly.
"Go on, Mr. Reid," suggested The Thinking Machine.