"From then on I faced the world as Cunningham, and in the end I should have triumphed but for one thing. Mr. Davies' refusal to believe Ruth guilty brought a new element into the case, a man with brains as keen as my own, who was not to be duped as I had fooled the police. He was suspicious of Cunningham from the first, but I did not think that even he could uncover the truth, so in the end I lost."
Darwin ceased speaking and there was silence in the room for a moment, then unexpectedly he rose and turned to McKelvie. "You are clever, but you haven't got me yet. You think to try me. The man doesn't live who can put me in a cell."
Even as he spoke, before we could grasp the meaning of his rapidly uttered words, he sprang down the room toward the door, wrenching it open as Jones fired. We saw Darwin make for the stairs and we were after him in a second. On the floor above he rushed into his dressing-room, and as we entered we saw him disappear into the secret closet. There was a whirring sound and a cry of dismay, then silence, horror-filled.
CHAPTER XXXIX
CONCLUSION
Leaving Jones in charge of the house and its gruesome burden, McKelvie, Grenville and I drove to Center Street to secure Ruth's release. On the way Grenville asked McKelvie whether he would mind explaining how he first divined the truth. McKelvie obligingly complied.
"I owe my success to Miss Manning's quick-wittedness in leaving us that clue in the secret room. But for that the case might still be hanging fire. Until we discovered the ring I had no suspicions of the real truth of the matter. I merely mistrusted Cunningham, because he was the only clever unprincipled person connected with the case, but I could conceive of no plausible motive which would cause him to commit the crime.
"I had never swallowed that neat account of how Darwin's finger came to be bruised. The reason was deeper than mere sentiment, I felt. When we stumbled on the ring, the truth flashed across my mind. The ring had to be removed because the dead man was Dick, not Darwin. If that were so, then Dick could not have committed suicide. I determined to test my theory.
"I took with me to Water Street a photograph of Darwin taken when he was Dick's age (I had seen it in an old album in the den upstairs when I first examined the house on Riverside Drive). Both Mrs. Bates and Ben Kite recognized it as the picture of the man who had jumped into the river. So far, so good. Dick had been murdered and Darwin was alive. What was the motive? James Gilmore supplied the answer and the case was simplified. With Darwin as the murderer every fact fell into place with the ease of a carefully pieced puzzle.