"I'm overlooking no one. I saw Jones and got from him all the data concerning Trenton's actions on that night. Also I telegraphed to the Chicago police to try to locate anyone who may have known him there and we should be hearing from that end in a day or two. There is one fact that stands out clearly, and can't be explained away. He left the hotel before eleven and did not return until one. Also there is no trace of where he went during that time since, though he taxied to the hotel, he was clever enough to take the Subway or the surface car to his destination. Then we have the letter he wrote his father, which certainly points to his intention to see Philip Darwin. Whether he did or not, we don't know, but it's quite probable that he did come here, and that the two men had a conference of some sort. Again I'm inclined to believe that he is innocent for the same reason that exonerated the father in my eyes. Yet there is his suicide to account for, and the still stranger fact that he left no word of any kind to explain his act."
He paused, then continued with a shake of the head, "There's not much use bothering with him at present, for he's beyond helping us in our predicament. There are others who may prove more useful."
"What about Lee?" I inquired, remembering the stick-pin and where it had been found.
"Lee Darwin is the most likely suspect that I have," he returned, then quietly busied himself with his dessert, for Mason had entered and was hovering around. "By the way," he added, as we left the dining-room, "I have an appointment with the steward of the Yale Club on this very matter. I went there yesterday but Carpe was away and I left word that I would call at one-thirty to see him. Supposing you drive me over."
"After this visit I'll be able to decide whether our young friend had the chance to commit murder," he continued when we were in the car headed for the Yale Club. "He had plenty of motive."
"Chance, too, McKelvie. Didn't you say yourself that he was there that night when you first showed me his stick-pin?"
"I said he was there and I still say it, but that means nothing at all. We have got to prove that he was there at the psychological moment."
I nodded. "But, even if he had been, I can't see where you find a motive. He quarreled with his uncle, I know, but there was nothing in that to cause him to shoot Darwin."
"Wasn't there?" answered McKelvie. "Surely you don't believe that he really quarreled with his uncle about Mrs. Darwin? It's absurd on the face of it, that he should suddenly object to treatment that he had accepted with utter indifference for five months or so. No, no, I have another theory altogether about that quarrel."
Our arrival at the Club put an end to our discussion. Carpe, the steward, whom I had interviewed the night I first sought McKelvie, came forward as we entered. He was a big, dependable fellow, this steward, and had been in the employ of the Club for years. Moreover, he could be trusted to give correct information about the doings of the various members of the Club, all of whom he knew well.