I sat thinking. There was no reason to disbelieve McCann. And there was a sinister coincidence in the
hours the girl had been seen. I said, half-aloud:
"The time she was out in the afternoon coincides with the time the doll was left at the Gilmores'. The time
she was out at night coincides with the time of the attack upon Ricori, and the death of John Gilmore."
"You hit it plumb in the eye!" said McCann. "She goes an' leaves the doll at Mollie's, an' comes back.
She goes an' sets the dolls on the boss. She waits for 'em to pop out. Then she goes an' collects the one
she's left at Mollie's. Then she beats it back home. They're in the suitcases she's carrying."
I could not hold back the irritation of helpless mystification that swept me.
"And I suppose you think she got out of the house by riding a broomstick up the chimney," I said,
sarcastically.