“Just a second.” Curtis held up his hand, and turned to Coroner Penfield. “In simple justice to Miss Meredith and to prevent a serious error on the part of the police, I insist that Inspector Mitchell tell us his reasons for securing the warrant for Miss Meredith’s arrest.”
“Reasons?” snapped Mitchell, before Penfield could answer. “There are reasons a-plenty. First, motive—destroying a codicil to her uncle’s will in which he revoked a bequest to her of a million dollars; second, opportunity—she was seen in his bedroom late Sunday night by Herman, the butler, who overheard their quarrel; third, her talk with the man outside the chambermaid’s window, I’ll do it to-night’; fourth, the parrot’s repetition of Meredith’s exclamation: ‘Anne—I’ve caught you—you devil.’” Mitchell paused and eyed Anne, then looked hastily away—her ghastly face disturbed him.
“Fifth—the weapon,” he went on. “You slipped up there, badly.”
“I aided you in finding the weapon,” put in Anne. “Was that the act of a guilty person?”
“It was excellent camouflage,” retorted Mitchell. “And it might have succeeded if you hadn’t miscalculated the direction the scalpel would fall when dropped through the banisters, and thus secreted it in the wrong fern box.” He returned the warrant to his pocket. “What clinched the case against you, Miss Meredith, was finding your fingerprints on the knife.”
Like an animal at bay Anne faced her accuser. No one spoke. Mrs. Meredith sat with face averted, one hand opening and closing spasmodically on her scented handkerchief. Mrs. Hull, unconscious of the tears running down her cheeks, was breathing with difficulty, oblivious that her daughter, with Leonard McLane, had joined the group.
“And if the court requires further proof,” went on Mitchell’s relentless voice, “a lock of your hair was wound around the button on Meredith’s pajamas jacket when we found his dead body in the hall.” Curtis advanced to Anne’s side. “I was the first to find Meredith’s body,” he stated. “I also discovered, while Hollister was telephoning for the coroner, that some hairs were caught on the button over Meredith’s heart. These hairs I removed.” Paying no attention to Mitchell’s surprised ejaculation, he added: “They were white.”
“Say, you are dippy!” Mitchell’s contempt was plain. “Where are the hairs?”
“Gone,” briefly. “Stolen out of my pocketbook.”
“What are you giving us?” roughly. “Stuff and nonsense?”