“No; sir. We wouldn't be likely to; the servants' rooms are all at the top of the house and the staircase leading to them has a brick wall on either side, like stairs leading to an ordinary attic, and there's a door at the bottom which shuts off all sound from below.” It was the longest sentence the butler had indulged in and he paused for breath.
“Who closes the house at night. Grimes?”
“I do, sir.
“Why did you leave the window in the reception room open?”
“I didn't, sir,” was the prompt denial. “I had just locked it when Mrs. Brewster came in, along with Colonel McIntyre and Mr. Clymer, and they sat down to talk. When I left the room the window was locked fast, and so was every door and window in the place,” he declared aggressively. “I'll take my dying oath to it, sir.” Penfield looked at Grimes; that he was telling the truth was unmistakable.
“Who sits up to let in the young ladies when they go to balls?” he asked.
“Generally no one, sir, because Colonel McIntyre accompanies them or calls for them, and he has his latch-key. Lately,” added Grimes as an after-thought, “Miss Helen has been using a duplicate latch-key.”
“Has Miss Barbara McIntyre a latch-key, also?” asked Penfield.
“No, sir, I believe not,” the butler looked dubious. “I recall that Colonel McIntyre gave Miss Helen her key at the luncheon table, and he said, then, to Miss Barbara that he couldn't trust her with one because she would be sure to lose it, she is that careless.”
The coroner asked the next question with such abruptness that the butler started.