“You seem to be very much in earnest in what you say, Mr. Danton,” said the detective.
“I am very much in earnest, sir.”
“Well, in the first place, suppose you tell me who is dead. Since you say that a murder has been committed and it is not unlikely that you did it, it is well to know something of the corpus dilecti. Who was murdered?”
“Ramon Orizaba; my mother’s guest.”
“Your cousin, is he—or rather, was he not?”
“A kinsman of my mother’s so far removed that the ties of blood are very thin; still, he has passed as our cousin. You know of him. He has been our guest, at intervals of two or three months at a time, for half a dozen seasons.”
“Oh, yes; I know of him. Now where was he killed?”
“In my own room at the Fells.”
“In your room? Where were you?”