“But why blood on the tip of her forefinger?” Phelan protested. “Isn’t that enough evidence that she——”
“It is not reliable evidence,” Nick objected, interrupting.
“But the size of her finger tip corresponds with the marks on the wall.”
“That cuts no ice,” Nick again insisted. “Clever crooks, bent upon this deception, would have dragged the woman near enough to the wall, after killing her, to grasp her lax hand and finger and forced it to inscribe the desired words. That is precisely what was done. This inconsistency in the capital A alone convinces me of that.”
“I am not so sure of it, Carter, all the same,” Phelan still objected.
“Well, I am, Phelan, and I was reasonably sure of it from the first,” said Nick.
“Why so?”
“Notice her fractured skull. Such wounds are prohibitive. Tilly Lancey did not recover consciousness, to say nothing of having revived sufficiently to write these words. Furthermore, if she had, she would not have done so.”
“You mean?”
“Here is the telephone stand scarce three feet away,” Nick continued. “With consciousness and reason re[Pg 17]stored, and sufficient strength to have dragged herself to the wall and written these words, she would have taken a simpler method to expose her assailant.”