“I’ll tell you.” Bernard smiled with irritating slowness. “There were no finger-prints. Therefore, gloves were probably worn by the murderer. If so, why not these, which lay so conveniently at hand near the cross-bow? Well, gloves leave no finger-prints. But old gloves like these, worn smooth inside as well as out may retain distinct finger-prints on the inside of the glove fingers—finger-prints left there by the last wearer who is, let us suppose, the murderer! A murderer is usually in a sweat of nerves and if his fingers were moist that would help, see?”
Graham and Landis stared at him incredulously.
“You really mean there’s anything in that?” demanded Landis.
“We’ll see, anyhow. Early this morning I telephoned for your finger-print expert. They’re Joel’s gloves. If they contain the finger-prints of someone else, Miss Mount, for example, we have a new field for inquiry at least!”
“Such as which, sir?” inquired Landis politely.
Bernard flung him a whimsical frown.
“If the finger-prints of anyone except Joel appear,” he explained, “their owner will have to explain when and how and why she—or he—wore the gloves. If borrowed, did Joel lend them? Get the idea?”
“You’ll have to have everybody’s finger-prints—”
“Exactly! I expect to have a busy morning before that expert turns up! About your Miss Mount theory—”