“You surprise me,” muttered Shively, looking dazed. “I saw Patterson in the Atlanta station for a second on my way to the lunchroom. He told Norcross and me that he had decided to take the midnight express to Washington as that would give him several hours more in Atlanta, and he would reach Washington but a few hours later than if he took the train we were on.”
McLane sat forward in his chair. “Did Patterson by chance encounter Julian Barclay in the station?” he asked.
“I couldn’t tell you,” replied Shively.
“It was more than coincidence which brought Tilghman, Ito, James Patterson, and Julian Barclay together, perhaps unknown to each other, in that station,—it was Fate,” said Calhoun solemnly. “In sifting out one crime we will clear up both.”
“Heavens! Tilghman’s death is mysterious enough without having another murder hinging on it,” exclaimed Shively impatiently. “There is one interesting point which has not been brought out. Tilghman, after his scuffle with the Jap, borrowed a flask from Julian Barclay.”
McLane’s hand closed with some force over his chair arm. “How did you make that discovery?” he asked.
“The brakeman who passed through the smoker just after the scuffle, saw Barclay hand a flask to Tilghman. Unfortunately the man was hurt in an accident, and did not appear at the inquest,” Shively paused, then resumed more quietly. “I sent Barclay back to the empty smoker after removing Tilghman’s body, and he thus had ample opportunity to recover his flask and remove all trace of his crime.”
“But what motive had he in poisoning Tilghman?” demanded McLane excitedly.
“The loss of a large sum of money to Tilghman during a game of cards the night before the murder.”
Calhoun shook his head. “No, too thin,” he said curtly. “A deeper motive than that lies behind the murder. Tilghman was coming to Washington on a special mission, and he had with him valuable state documents, and their possession cost him his life.”