“You knocked him down with a champagne bottle, as he came toward you to strike you. He fell flat, with his head against the corner of the iron fender. But the blow against the fender was a trifle. It glanced and hardly cut the skin. The stroke that killed him was delivered by the champagne bottle in your hand!”
Bonesy Billings, Captain Brown, Louden Powers, and Lampton were all on their feet, in their excitement. The man who was supposed to be Howard Milmarsh and Thomas Jarvis were the only persons who remained in their chairs. Chick and Patsy had both arisen, as if to prevent any demonstration by Powers or Lampton.
“Sit down!” commanded the detective. “There is nothing to be done. The man who killed Richard Jarvis cannot escape.”
The others dropped into their seats again. The two crooks showed more terror than had been in their faces since first they knew Carter was in the house. If this shrewd, deep-seeing detective could wind the toils so easily about Thomas Jarvis for a crime committed years ago, why would he not put them in cells for offenses of yesterday, as it were?
Both Louden Powers and Andrew Lampton were uneasy. It is true that the latter had practically a promise of safety if he delivered T. Burton Potter into the hands of the detective. But he was not prepared to produce Potter except as a last resort to keep himself out of prison.
As for Louden Powers, he was a bold scoundrel, and he intended to make a desperate fight to get away if he found Carter and his men closing in on him. Only, he wished he were not locked in a room like this, with the odds in numbers against him.
“There’s Carter and his two men,” he mused. “Captain Brown, I guess, and that big Billings. That would be five against one—for I don’t suppose I could count on that weak-kneed Lampton. He has some sort of pull on the detective. I wouldn’t mind betting he’s a ‘squealer.’”
“Now, Mr. Jarvis,” continued Nick. “You have forced me to take this action. If you had not attempted to cash in your crime, I should have been inclined to let it rest in the oblivion to which you thought it consigned. The fact that you have compelled me to remind you of it, in the presence of these witnesses, emphasizes the world-old truth that ‘murder will out.’ What have you to say?”
There was no answer. Thomas Jarvis’ gaze was fixed on the opposite wall, and he had slumped curiously down in his large armchair.
“Look here, Carter,” broke in Captain Brown again. “You don’t have to drag me into this.”