We stepped out immediately to the porch, now flooded in sunshine, and stood without a word trying to shake off the atmosphere cast about us by Mrs. Drukker’s terrifying experience.
Markham was the first to speak.
“Do you believe, Vance, that the person who brought that chessman here last night is the killer of Robin and Sprigg?”
“There can be no doubt of it. The purpose of his midnight visit is hideously clear. It fits perfectly with what has already come to light.”
“It strikes me merely as a ruthless practical joke,” Markham rejoined, “—the act of a drunken fiend.”
Vance shook his head.
“It’s the only thing in this whole nightmare that doesn’t qualify as a piece of insane humor. It was a deadly serious excursion. The devil himself is never so solemn as when covering his tracks. Our particular devil’s hand had been forced, and he made a bold play. ’Pon my soul, I almost prefer his jovial mood to the one that prompted him to break in here last night. However, we now have something definite to go on.”
Heath, impatient of all theorizing, quickly picked up this last remark.
“And what might that be, sir?”
“Imprimis, we may assume that our chess-playing troubadour was thoroughly familiar with the plan of this house. The night-light in the upper hall may have cast its gleam down the rear stairs as far as the landing, but the rest of the way must have been in darkness. Moreover, the arrangement of the rear of the house is somewhat complicated. Therefore, unless he knew the layout he couldn’t have found his way about noiselessly in the dark. Obviously, too, the visitor knew in which room Mrs. Drukker slept. Also, he must have known what time Drukker turned in last night, for he wouldn’t have chanced making his call unless he had felt sure that the coast was clear.”