“What attracted Mrs. Brewster's attention to the casket?”
“The blood stain on its side,” McIntyre answered.
“What—that!” Ferguson eyed McIntyre incredulously. “Come, sir, do you mean to tell me she noticed that little bit of a stain in a dark room?”
“She had an electric torch,” shortly.
“But why should she turn the torch on this casket?” persisted the detective. “She came to the library for a book, and the bookcases are in another part of the room.”
“Quite so, but the book she wished was lying on the top of this casket,” replied McIntyre, meeting their level looks with one equally steadfast. “I know because I left the book there.”
Ferguson glanced from McIntyre to Kent and back again at the Colonel in non-plussed silence. The explanation was pat.
“I'd like to talk with Mrs. Brewster,” he remarked dryly.
“Certainly.” McIntyre pressed an electric button. The summons was answered immediately by the new servant, Murray. “Ask Mrs. Brewster if she can see Detective Ferguson in the library, Murray,” McIntyre directed.
“Beg pardon, sir, but Mrs. Brewster has just gone out,” and with a bow Murray withdrew.