"Yours in haste, George."
Britz stowed the letter in his pocket, then summoned Muldoon.
"Now tell what happened," he said.
It required some effort on the part of the policeman to gather his thoughts. The quick succession of events had woven a fog before his brain, leaving him with but a misty perception of what had occurred.
"I—I don't know exactly where to begin," he stammered.
"Did you follow her to the house?" Britz gave him an opening.
"Yes," he replied. "I got a taxicab and trailed her machine. She got out in front of the door and went upstairs. About ten minutes later this gentleman came and must have gone to her apartment. I waited downstairs. Presently the elevator boy rushed into the street yelling 'Murder! Police!' I asked him what happened and he said he heard a shot and a sound like a body falling to the floor. He took me upstairs and I rapped on the door. This man here opened it and let me in. He said the woman had killed herself. As I knew you were coming here, I made sure that she was dead and remained to see that nothing was disturbed."
"This man was in the room when the shot was fired?" asked Britz, as if to make Beard realize the significance of it.
"Yes," responded the policeman.
"Mr. Beard, have you anything to add to the officer's story?" curtly inquired the detective.