Brett shook his head. “How did Senator Carew get into that carriage?” he asked doubtfully.
“Hamilton probably lied when he said he did not first stop at this house on his way to the ball to bring Miss Carew home. Or perhaps Winthrop came into this room, found Senator Carew busy writing, stole up behind him, seized the letter file and stabbed him with it.”
Again Brett shook his head. “If that had been the case, the Senator would have been stabbed in the back; whereas he was stabbed directly over the heart, and whoever committed the crime was facing him.”
“Well, that is not impossible,” argued Douglas. “Winthrop may have stood near the Senator’s chair and talked to him for a few minutes without the latter suspecting danger, may have even picked up the letter file, a harmless thing to do under ordinary circumstances, and, without warning, thrust it into the Senator’s chest.”
“And afterward?” questioned Brett.
“Afterward—Winthrop may have stepped into the hall, found no one there, tiptoed into the room again, telephoned”—pointing to the desk instrument—“out to the stable and told Hamilton to drive at once to the front door. The sound of the horses’ hoofs was probably drowned by the heavy rain, so no one in the house would have heard the carriage enter the porte-cochère, but”—impressively—“Winthrop, from this window, could see its arrival. He probably stepped into the hall again, found the coast clear, opened the front door, dashed back, picked up Senator Carew, who was much smaller than he, carried him out and placed him inside the carriage. Hamilton had been drinking, and was perhaps too befogged to notice anything unusual, and, when Winthrop slammed the carriage door, he probably drove off none the wiser.”
“As much as I dislike Philip Winthrop I do not think him capable of committing murder,” said Colonel Thornton, slowly. “Secondly, I believe, no matter how secretly you think the murder was planned, that, if Philip were guilty, Mrs. Winthrop would have some inkling of it, and if their quarrel was so serious she would have known it, and would naturally try to hush matters up. Instead of which, she is the first to offer a reward, a large reward, mind you. It is not within reason that she would have done such a thing had she the faintest idea that Philip was the murderer.”
“I beg your pardon, Philip is not her son. There may be no love lost between them.”