“Oh, it’s you, Dr. Balman. You came at just the right time. I think we have bagged our birds. Can you come through the window, Doctor?”
It was Dr. Balman, sure enough, water running off his shoulders and shining in the light as he crawled through the window assisted by the policeman.
Once inside the room Dr. Balman looked slowly about him.
“What is this? What have you found, O’Leary?” His puzzled gaze found the box in Gainsay’s hand. He started. “Why—why is that the radium?”
“It may interest you to know, Dr. Balman, that we have caught the murderer and thief.”
“What!” cried Dr. Balman. His eyes travelled slowly around the room and his voice broke a little as he cried: “Not—not Fred Hajek?”
O’Leary’s keenly exultant eyes softened a little.
“Wait,” he said. “There is another in the room.”
Taking a key from his pocket, he crossed lightly to the closed door of the further closet, unlocked it and swung it open. I took a step forward and cried out involuntarily. Instantly I recognized my own purple hat, sodden and drenched, and then, cramped in that small space, a woman’s huddled figure. It was Corole!
As we stared she glared back at us for a moment. Then she rose slowly, struggling with cramped muscles. Her eyes, narrow with hate, were fixed on Lance O’Leary.