"What's the objection then to showing them to me?" McKelvie responded. "I just want to satisfy my client that I have done everything possible to solve the case. I don't expect to learn anything from them."
Jones shrugged. "We have deduced all there is to learn and you are welcome to that," he said quietly.
"But not welcome to look at the articles themselves, is that it?" returned McKelvie, with a curl of the lip. Then he laughed outright.
"Say it. Go ahead. Don't spare me," remarked Jones with a grimace.
"I was wondering how soon it would be before you would be coming to me for advice, as you did in that last case of yours," McKelvie answered reflectively.
Jones flushed, then grinned. "You win," he said, and ushered us into his private office. From a cupboard in a corner of the room he produced the articles in question, and placed them on the flat-topped desk before us.
McKelvie picked up the pistol and examined it carefully. "Mrs. Darwin's finger-prints, I understand?"
"Yes."
"Anyone else's?"
"No."