“I’m not sure. I think it was a man named Pfyfe.”
“He and Mr. Benson were outside at the same time, then?”
Leacock frowned.
“No—not at the same time. There was nobody there when I arrived. . . . I didn’t see Pfyfe until I came out a few minutes later.”
“He arrived in his car when you were inside,—is that it?”
“He must have.”
“I see. . . . And now to go back a little: Benson drove up in a taxicab. Then what?”
“I went up to him and said I wanted to speak to him. He told me to come inside, and we went in together. He used his latch-key.”
“And now, Captain, tell us just what happened after you and Mr. Benson entered the house.”
“He laid his hat and stick on the hat-rack, and we walked into the living-room. He sat down by the table, and I stood up and said—what I had to say. Then I drew my gun, and shot him.”