“Not a very secure arrangement,” remarked Maynard. “Then you think keys were made to fit the doors in your absence this summer?”
“Yes. It would be an easy matter for a man to get a wax impression of the lock at night without attracting attention. The few people on our block who are home are at work all day and at the club at night; that is why,” added Burnham obstinately, “the dead man could have been brought at any hour to the house unknown to any one.”
“You mean brought in a cab?” inquired Maynard.
“Of course. A dead man couldn’t be carried through the streets without being seen by some one,” replied Burnham. “Have a little sense!”
Maynard paid no attention to his companion’s irritability.
“So you think the dead man was carried to your house in a cab,” he mused. “If that was the case it simplifies the search.”
“How so?” The question came from Palmer and Maynard turned slightly to face him.
“It should be a comparatively easy matter to trace the cab driver,” he said.
“An excellent idea,” agreed Hayden. “Provided, of course, that Burnham’s theory is correct—that the man was first murdered and then carried into his house. Frankly, as a medical man I don’t agree with Burnham’s reasoning; a dead body is a very unwieldy object to move around and would most certainly attract attention.”
“The man was only of medium height and thin,” protested Burnham, and then added in haste which Maynard was quick to note, “that is, judging from the glimpse I had of the body on the billiard table. Palmer,” as the latter rose, “hand me a cigar from the box on the mantel, thanks,” and he borrowed Maynard’s cigarette to light the fresh cigar.