“Sergeant Forbes,” said Landis, “we are questioning the household one by one. I believe it would be a good idea, after we finish with each, if he or she stayed at this end of the room under your eyes. You understand, don’t you!”
“I do, sir. I’ll see they don’t communicate!”
Landis turned to the butler.
“Wait here, please.”
Stimson sat down without a word.
By the fire, Landis expressed his reaction to the recent interview.
“Psychologically,” he murmured to Bernard, “that was a convincing proof of innocence!” Observing a smile about his companion’s mouth, he added: “either that, or it was a wonderful piece of acting!”
“Motive and opportunity!” replied Bernard quietly. “He hated Harrison. He had plenty of time and opportunity to leave the butler’s pantry, enter the hall back there and shoot Harrison with the Japanese bow. He knew Harrison’s ways, had plenty of chance to study a way to kill him, knew that everyone else here shoots, too, while nobody knows that he can, probably. And who had a better chance to fix that bow in advance? Just let us get one water-tight scrap of evidence! Well, suppose we ring and tackle the next one!”
The next one was Susan Duckworth, for she answered the bell. Landis conducted her across the hall to the drawing-room which proved untenanted. Bernard followed them.
Susan was a pretty girl, of a blue-eyed, pink-and-white type more decorative than efficient. Her cheeks still showed traces of tears and her eyes of nervous excitement.