It was some seconds before Craige answered. “I went prepared for failure,” he admitted. “I could not face ruin—perhaps the penitentiary for forgery. My father was a famous expert in toxicology and,” he moistened his lips—“I often worked in his laboratory,” with a side glance at the bulb syringe still lying where it had fallen on the floor. “I at first planned to squeeze some poison in her tea cup, but got no chance. Then Miss Baird asked me to peel a peach for her. I don’t know where the peaches came from, but there were three in a dish on the table. Before cutting the peach in two, I sprayed some hydrocyanic acid on the knife-blade when Miss Baird was not looking, holding the knife just over the edge of the table and the bulb in my left hand, out of sight in my lap.”
“It was devilishly ingenious,” commented Mitchell. “Well, did you steal the forged paper after killing the old lady?”
“No.” Craige looked at Kitty with a faint sneer. “It was among those canceled checks from the bank which you so obligingly left in your desk yesterday alongside your revolver. I stole them both last night.”
“Last night?” Kitty looked at him in astonishment. “Why, we found you at home last night, Ted and I. We telephoned you first that we were coming and—”
“I answered the ’phone; quite so.” Craige’s smile was peculiar. “My butler, Lambert, is well trained and,” with emphasis, “well paid. He is quick at recognizing the voices of my intimate friends. I happened to be in Washington in my, eh, town apartment,” with a sidelong look at Kitty. “From there I have a direct wire to my switchboard in my house, and Lambert plugged in your call. You thought you were talking to me at ‘Hideaway,’ Rodgers, whereas I wasn’t six blocks away from here.
“I told Lambert to take care of you until I got home, then hurried over here. I have a key to the side door. It took but an instant to slip upstairs to your room and to go through your desk. Mandy never woke up, but that infernal cat,” with a vindictive snarl. “I wish I had strangled her. When I got back to ‘Hideaway,’ I found you and Kitty so engaged with each other that I knew you never realized the time I took to appear.”
“So that was it!” Rodgers drew a long breath. “And you followed us and tried to shoot me in the Park!”
“Yes.” Craige favored him with a scowl. “I got word yesterday that you were wise to the kind of life I was leading—you knew too much. I detected you watching me last night. If Kitty had not swerved her car when she did, I’d have potted you, for I’m a crack shot as a general thing.”
“And did you throw the revolver into the car as you dashed by?” asked Kitty.