“Miss Day sounded frightened—and it had been my impression that Mr. Jackson was doing very well indeed. I took my coat, for it was raining, got into my car and drove as fast as I could to St. Ann’s.”
Dr. Hajek, too, corroborated as far as possible every feature of the testimonies Maida and I had given. No, he had not heard any knocks on the door of his room, until I knocked. The lights were out and he did not understand at once what was wanted. However, when he did understand that there was some trouble in Room 18, he hurried to that room. He had only time to make the briefest of examinations, when Dr. Balman arrived. Dr. Balman came by the south door into the wing, instead of going around to the main entrance. The south door had been closed and the key in the lock and Miss Day had let Dr. Balman into the corridor. Yes, they had immediately agreed as to the cause of death.
Mr. James Gainsay was the next witness. As he advanced a queer little stir crept over the room.
He admitted freely that he had been walking in the orchard previous to the storm. The night was hot and sultry, he said, and he had thought it might be cooler outdoors. As freely he admitted that the cigarette case belonged to him.
“I’m certainly glad it was found,” he said, grinning a little. “I value that cigarette case and did not know where I had lost it.”
The coroner frowned; this levity was out of place. He moved the slim, gold case to the side of the table farther away from Gainsay.
“Was it you who collided with Miss Keate, there at the porch steps?” he asked.
Jim Gainsay’s sun-tanned eyebrows drew closer together, but his mouth retained a half-amused smile.
“I think it likely,” he said easily. “At least I—collided with some one.”
His candid air did not remove, to my mind, any of the significance of his presence near the hospital.