“But they couldn’t have reached the street, my dear!” cried Kerry.
“No—they couldn’a ha’ gained the street.”
She became silent again, her husband watching her expectantly. Then:
“If puir Sir Lucien Pyne was killed at a quarter after seven—the time his watch was broken—the native sairvent did no’ kill him. Frae the Spinker’s evidence the black man went awe’ before then,” she said. “Mrs. Irvin?”
Kerry shook his head.
“From all accounts a slip of a woman,” he replied. “It was a strong hand that struck the blow.”
“Kazmah?”
“Probably.”
“Mr. Quentin Gray came back wi’ a cab and went upstairs, free the Spinker’s evidence, at aboot a quarter after seven, and came doon five meenites later sair pale an’ fretful.”
Kerry surrounded himself and the speaker with wreaths of stifling smoke.