"Not much. We've still got young Burton, of course, but he's about as close-mouthed a proposition as I ever had anything to do with. He says he isn't guilty, but that's all he will say. We've given our evidence to the district attorney's office, and they'll pass it on to the Grand Jury in a few days."
"You've still got it in your mind that he's the person you want, have you?"
Osborne crossed one leg over the other and put his thumbs in the armholes of his vest.
"I have," acknowledged he. "I've had a good bit of experience in these things, and it looks pretty straight to me. We've got the motive, all right, and it's a strong one. I think a good case can be built up around that, the candlestick and the testimony of the maid and nurse. As a matter of fact," with professional complacence, "I've seen more than one man go to the chair with less evidence against him."
"But suppose there were some other little points to be taken into consideration?" asked Ashton-Kirk. "As I see it, you are restricting yourself to a very narrow field. The sort of life the Bounder led is well known to every one. Do you suppose he was without enemies? Is it not possible that others may have had motives for dealing the blow that ended his life?"
Osborne nodded his head, but his comfortable attitude did not change.
"Sure," said he. "That's so. I've no doubt that Tom Burton, in his time, double-crossed a dozen 'guns' that would have been only too glad of a chance to 'get' him. But they didn't do it; no one but the man we've got had the chance that night. They weren't near enough."
The investigator bent toward the speaker, his eyes steadily upon his face.
"How sure are you of that?" said he.
Osborne took his thumbs from the armholes of his vest