“But there must be somebody,—that seems to you a possible factor in the removal of Mr. Webb. Somebody, of whom you would say, if that person proved to be the criminal, ‘I thought so!’ Isn’t there, now?”
“No,” said Mrs. Powell, but she spoke hesitantly.
“There! you’ve proved there is, by your tone. Come, now, who is it?”
“The Webbs,” said Mrs. Powell, speaking sharply. “I don’t say I’m right, but I can’t get it out of my head, that they know where Kimball is.”
“That’s the ticket!” Coley smiled at her.
“I’ve got to get a line on this thing. Now, Mrs. Seaman, your suspect is—”
“Wallace Courtney,” Gerty declared. “I’d suspect the Webbs, but I can’t think they’d want all the opprobrium of the cancelled wedding party and all the unpleasant notoriety that it caused—”
“A lot they cared for that!” exclaimed Elsie.
“Go on, Mrs. Seaman,” urged Coe. “You think that Mr. Courtney—”
“I think he somehow arranged to have Kimball Webb kidnapped,” Gerty said, positively; “I don’t know how he accomplished it, but you see, he just learned that very evening, that Mr. Webb’s play was so nearly like his own and much farther along. He realized that Kimball’s play would be done and produced before his own could be finished, and he was desperate. He knew he couldn’t do anything after the wedding, so he made a grand dash and put Kimball out of the way at once.”