"I'd been there just a little while when I noticed some kind of movement on the steps of Number Five. It was a man coming down the steps. He was very careful about it, and very slow; looked like a man on his tiptoes."
Bristow maintained his attitude of hanging over him, urging him on, forcing him to talk. Braceway and Major Ross, their faces wearing strained expressions, bent forward in their chairs, catching every syllable that came from the prisoner.
"He went down the steps and turned down Manniston Road, toward the avenue."
"All right!" Bristow prompted. "What then?"
"That was all there was to that. I just sat there. It looked funny to me, but I didn't follow him. I wondered what he'd been doing. I never thought about murder or—or anything like that. I swear I didn't!"
He licked his lips and gulped.
"I sat there, I don't know how much longer it was—pretty long, I suppose. I didn't keep my glance always toward Number Five.
"When I did look that way again, I saw another man come down the steps quietly, very cautiously. He turned toward me, but he came only far enough up to cut in between Number Five and Number Seven. He disappeared that way, between the two houses."
"Did you see the struggle?" Braceway asked sharply.
Bristow scowled at the interruption.