Lois nodded, speech was impossible for her. Mitchell broke the painful silence.
“You said: ‘God help me, I killed Patterson’,” he announced.
Barclay rose stiffly, and the jingle of the handcuffs caused Ethel to look at him. He moved like an old man.
“Well, so I did kill Patterson,” he admitted slowly. “But not James Patterson.”
CHAPTER XXII
THE CONFESSION
Julian Barclay’s confession staggered his hearers, who gazed at him in amazement too great for words.
“I don’t get your meaning,” stammered Mitchell. “Explain yourself.”
Before Barclay could comply with his request, the portières were dragged aside and Walter Ogden strode into the room. He came to an abrupt stop as his eyes lighted on Barclay standing handcuffed, the central figure of the little group. Ogden hardly seemed aware of the others, his gaze being focused on Barclay and the handcuffs. Great beads of perspiration appeared on his forehead.
“What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded. “What deviltry are you up to?” and he glared at them all.
Mitchell took the question to himself, and an angry sparkle lit his eyes. “Don’t interfere with the administration of the law,” he snapped. “I’ve just arrested your cousin, Mr. Julian Barclay, for the murder of James Patterson.”