“Dad’s spectacle case!” she cried triumphantly.
Opening the lid, she held up a pair of dark horn-rimmed glasses.
“I’m sure I don’t know where the case came from,” Mrs. Botts stammered.
“When Dad reads on the sofa at home, he often loses his case between the cushions!” Penny went on excitedly. “Mrs. Botts, you thought you were very clever getting him away from here and removing all the evidence!”
“A salesman who wore glasses was here last week—” the housekeeper began weakly.
“You can’t talk yourself out of this,” Penny cut her short, “Mr. Deming, let me show you something.”
She reopened the lid of the case and pointed to the initials “A. P.” engraved in gold letters.
“Anthony Parker,” she said impressively. “Dad had them stamped there because he lost the case so many times. Does this prove my story?”
“It does,” said Mr. Deming. Sternly he faced the housekeeper. “Mrs. Botts, you have deeply humiliated me. I shall turn you over to the police.”
Mrs. Botts began to weep. Stumbling across the room, she clutched her employer’s arm.