“Was this end door usually open or closed?” Bernard asked Graham.
“Miss Mount spoke of that, too. It was open until tonight. I can verify that. I’ve passed it often since I’ve been here and glanced into the library. The door was always back against the wall in the hall.”
“Uh-huh,” grunted Bernard thoughtfully. He moved between the suits of armor and pushed the door, his hand close to the hinge, so that it swung slowly open.
Standing in the doorway he faced the middle of a short, wide hall running left and right across the end of the library. To his right the wall containing the doorway in which he stood was, of course, blank. But turning his head to the left he saw that it extended a little beyond the end of the library to contain a green baize, swing door. His sense of topography told him that this door communicated with the front hall on the near side of the main staircase. The end wall to his left had a similar green door at right angles to the other. The end wall to his right was blank. He had expected windows, as it was a continuation of the long outer wall of the library. Evidently the wing lay beyond. The near right-hand corner was occupied by a luxurious couch, behind which rose a marble statue of Cupid and Psyche in a flippant mood.
The other side of the hall contained, from left to right, three wide, shallow, frosted windows set high in the wall and, at the extreme right, a heavy, closed door. Through the windows shone a diffused and greenish light.
Bernard turned to find Graham beside him. Landis had stepped back and they heard him ask the sergeant to stay in the library and watch the Japanese bow. When he rejoined them Bernard pointed away to his left.
“What’s beyond that swing door at the end of the hall there?” he asked Graham.
“That and the swing door on the far side of the main staircase open into the servants’ hall, I believe, although I’ve never been through either.”
Bernard indicated the opposite wall. “What’s back of those windows?” he inquired. “Billiard-room?”