“How did you know!”
“Because I caught the look on your face day before yesterday when you saw the look on Delia’s face. That man’s alligator wallet meant something to her. She either recognized it or something about it reminded her directly of something like it. And her start of recognition produced some sort of recognition in you, too, Laurel. Delia left the room at once, and before we went away we made sure of where she’d gone. She’d gone right up to her bedroom.
“She left for Santa Barbara yesterday afternoon, and last night ― while you were luring the key out of young Macgowan, probably ― I pulled a second-story job and gave the bedroom a going-over. Keats, of course, couldn’t risk it; the L.A. police have had to lean over backwards lately, and if Keats had been caught housebreaking there might have been a mess that would spoil everything. There wasn’t enough, of course, to justify a warrant and an open search.
“I left Delia’s alligator bag in the sleeve of the white coat, where I found it. And where, I take it, you found it a few hours later. I hope you left everything exactly as it was.”
“Yes,” moaned Laurel. “But all that breast-beating for nothing.”
Ellery lit a cigaret. “Now let me tell you something you don’t know, Laurel.” His eyes, which had not laughed at all, became as smoky as his cigaret. “That green alligator pocketbook of Delia’s was a gift. She didn’t buy it herself. Luckily, the salesgirl who sold it remembered clearly what the purchaser looked like, even though it was a cash sale. She gave an excellent and recognizable description, and when she was shown the corresponding photograph she identified it as the man she had described. The purchase was made in mid-April of this year, just before Delia’s birthday, and the purchaser was Alfred Wallace.”
“Alfred―” Laurel was about to go on, but then her teeth closed on her lower lip.
“It’s all right, Laurel,” said Ellery. “I know all about Delia and Alfred.”
“I wasn’t sure.” Laurel was silent. Then she looked up. “What do you think it means?”
“It could mean nothing at all,” Ellery said slowly. “Coincidence, for example, although coincidence and I haven’t been on speaking terms for years. More likely whoever it is we’re after may have noticed Delia’s bag and, consciously or unconsciously, it suggested to him the nature of the fourth warning to Priam. Delia’s suspicious actions can be plausibly explained, in this interpretation, as the fear of an innocent person facing a disagreeable involvement. Innocent people frequently act guiltier than guilty ones.