“Pardee was in love with Belle Dillard,” argued Markham; “and he probably knew that Robin was a suitor for her hand. Also, he was intensely jealous of Drukker.”
“And Sprigg’s murder?”
“We have no data on that point.”
Vance shook his head.
“We can’t separate the crimes as to motive. They all sprang from one underlying impulse: they were actuated by a single urgent passion.”
Markham sighed impatiently.
“Even if Pardee’s suicide is unrelated to the murders, we’re at a dead end, figuratively and literally.”
“Yes, yes. A dead end. Very distressin’. Consolin’ for the police, though. It lets them out—for a while, anyway. But don’t misinterpret my vagaries. Pardee’s death is unquestionably related to the murders. Rather intimate relationship, too, I’d say.”
Markham took his cigar slowly from his mouth and scrutinized Vance for several moments.
“Is there any doubt in your mind,” he asked, “that Pardee committed suicide?”