“Had he returned when the curtain went up on the second act?”
Moriarty reflected.
“I don’t believe he had. I think he came back a few minutes after the act began.”
“Ten minutes?”
“I couldn’t say. Certainly no more.”
“Then, allowing for a ten-minute intermission, the Colonel might have been away twenty minutes?”
“Yes—it’s possible.”
This ended the interview; and when Moriarty had gone, Vance lay back in his chair and smoked thoughtfully.
“Surprisin’ luck!” he commented. “The Piccadilly Theatre, y’ know, is practically round the corner from Benson’s house. You grasp the possibilities of the situation, what? . . . The Colonel invites an alderman to the Midnight Follies, and gets box seats near an exit giving on an alley. At a little before half past twelve he leaves the box, sneaks out via the alley, goes to Benson’s, taps and is admitted, shoots his man, and hurries back to the theatre. Twenty minutes would have been ample.”
Markham straightened up, but made no comment.