“I’m going to! Anita locked the door at the end of the hall so you wouldn’t be interrupted. She waited in your room while you stole along to the library and slipped in, again closing the door so that nobody passing in the hall would see you. You had the bow and an arrow ready and Harrison never noticed you in the shadow. Then the gong rang. Harrison got up and walked toward the door. You waited until he reached it so that if your arrow didn’t kill him you could slip out into the hall again before he could turn and make sure who you were. But your arrow did kill him!”
“Oh, stop!” Anita shrieked at him. “How can you tell such wicked, brutal lies about us! It isn’t true!”
“Shut up, ’Nita!” said Allen harshly. “Go on, Mr. Bernard. We may as well hear it all.”
“You let fly at him when he was in the doorway! Your arrow killed him. So you replaced the bow, slipped out and raced for your room, which you gained in safety. You sent Anita flying up the end stairs to her room. But she lost her head, knowing what she knew had happened, and came down the wrong flight. And there Isabelle saw her. We know you’re an excellent shot with a bow and arrow, Allen!”
“It’s not true!” wept Anita. “Not a word!”
Allen sat stiffly erect in his chair.
“There’s just one thing wrong with that theory, Mr. Bernard,” he said, “cleverly as you’ve worked it out. It never happened! We’ve told you the exact truth about where we were when Harrison was murdered. You are right about my row with Harrison. I didn’t tell you about it because I saw how black it would make things look against me. But I didn’t shoot Harrison!
“If you advance that theory you’ll disgrace us both and we’ll never live it down. You may put me on trial for the murder. You might even convict me on purely circumstantial evidence. But I didn’t do it. My finger-prints ought to be on the bow and arrow that killed Harrison, oughtn’t they?”
“You wore gloves!”