“How did you find it?”
“Corole brought it to Room 18 last night.” O’Leary’s voice had lifted to a normal pitch and I recall thinking that he should speak lower. “Corole brought it in her jewel case. The jewel case is there, too; she must have doubted your—er—hospitality.”
“Do you mean to say that she had that box of radium in her jewel case!” I cried. “And that she left the whole thing there, in Eighteen?”
“Possibly she agreed with me that it was the safest place in which to leave it. No one would suspect its being back in Room 18. No one would voluntarily enter that room. Oh, she took the precaution to cross to that closet and place the jewel case away back on the shelf. She did that while you were clearing the way for her passage through the halls to your room. She came very near sitting down on the bed to wait,” went on O’Leary drily. “And I was endeavouring to give an imitation of a mattress when you opportunely returned.”
“Oh,” I said brilliantly. “Oh.”
“It was the same closet that hid Dr. Letheny’s body,” added O’Leary meditatively. “I will leave the radium in Room 18 until to-night; it will be under close guard all day, Miss Keate, but I think it safer to wait till to-night, during second watch, when the guards are gone and the wing is quiet, to remove it. I’m not going to run the risk of Gainsay’s knocking me senseless again. Of course, we shall have to locate Corole and keep her out when she returns, as she will, for the radium. Then I’ll get the stuff away while the hospital is asleep.”
“Do you think that is wise?” I asked hesitantly. “Do you think that will be——”
“Ready to go back to the hospital?” interrupted O’Leary, and as we walked along the clean white gravel path he conversed so fluently and determinedly about the effect of the continued moisture upon the crops that I could not get a word in edgewise. At the grade door we paused and O’Leary said a peculiar thing.
“See you later in the day, Miss Keate. Twelve of the twenty-four hours I gave myself are gone, you know. And by the way, you couldn’t have done better if you had rehearsed.” And with that he was gone, leaving me entirely in the dark as to his meaning and feeling rather irritated. Morgue, who had followed us along the path, brushed against my skirts. She had already lost her air of pride and was taking on a certain harassed appearance besides being very thin. But her yellow eyes raised to mine were still complacent and knowing and so like Corole’s that I thrust her impatiently aside with my foot and closed the door sharply.
The rain continued, steadily increasing in fervour as the dreary day passed. All morning I remained in my room, the door locked securely, a chair in front of the window lest Corole should take a notion to return the way she had gone, and myself trying to sleep and succeeding for the most part in staring at the ceiling or at the rain-smeared window.