CHAPTER XIII
MR. NARKOM VOICES AN OPINION
"Bloodstains?"
Three pairs of feminine lips voiced that sinister word simultaneously: Lady Paula's, Cynthia's, and Maud Duggan's.
"But how, Mr. Deland?— But why?— And upon Cynthia's dress, too!"
"Well, I'll swear I never had anything to do with it, anyhow!" threw in Cynthia emphatically and in a voice of astonishment. "How could they be bloodstains, Mr. Deland? and how could they possibly get on my frock? Solve that question, if you please, first of all."
"Quite a simple one, Miss Debenham. Just this: The murderer—or one of them, as the case may be—entered this room by that middle window, stabbed Sir Andrew with the stiletto, stolen for the purpose, of course—then, in a frenzy lest he be discovered, caught hold of the nearest thing and wiped the bloodstained instrument upon it, and then made off as quickly as possible. You happened to be the nearest, no doubt. So you were the person chosen. Did you not feel anything at all of the action?"
She shook her head.
"Nothing that I remember. We were all so astonished when the light failed that I don't remember anything at all about it. If it was done, it was done gently—and my skirt is wide."