“Shot Jim,” completed Ethel, with forced calmness. “So I reasoned it out last night. I did not then know of the existence of this photograph, but I knew of the quarrel, Jim’s threat of exposure, and that Julian cleaned his revolver the morning after the murder.”
Lois’ eyes opened to their widest. “Heaven!” she exclaimed aghast. “And Julian Barclay was the first to find Jim Patterson. My husband saw him bending over his dead body—and no one else was in the vicinity.”
“It all dovetails,” admitted Ethel, and her eyes were indescribably sad. “What more likely than that Julian took his revolver intending to use it in the capture of the Jap, Ito; met Jim unexpectedly, and under cover of the smoke and fusillade of shots, which drowned his, gave way to temptation and killed Jim.”
“It is too horrible!” Lois’ gesture was eloquent. “And yet jealous men have committed crime since the days of Cain, and, God knows, Julian had reason to hate Jim Patterson”—she hesitated, but one look at Ethel decided her, and the information she had come that day to give her remained unspoken. “Ethel, dear”—impulsively she clasped her hands. “What can I say to you? How comfort you?”
Ethel tightened her grip of Lois’ hands, then dropped them slowly. “I told you I reasoned out all the evidence against Julian—I did not say I believed Julian a murderer.”
“Ethel!” Lois’ eyes were shining. “I pray God that your loyalty and faith are not misplaced.”
There was a brief silence as Ethel, with shaking fingers, completed her toilet, but her interview with Lois had strengthened her; she had lost the feeling of being alone and helpless; she knew that she could depend on Lois in any crisis.
“We had better go downstairs?” she suggested. “The household is so disorganized that I don’t know whether Charles will think to send us word when luncheon is ready.” She paused long enough to replace Barclay’s ring, the sketch, and the photograph in her bureau and take the drawer key, then accompanied Lois downstairs.
Ogden was standing in the large entrance hall, and he greeted their appearance with a grunt of approval.
“Your Cousin Jane has a very ill-regulated appetite,” he said, after shaking hands with Lois. “She never knows when it’s time for luncheon or dinner. Have you seen her this morning, Ethel?” and a penetrating look, of which his cousin was totally unaware, accompanied the question.