“He was in a room on the floor below Lanerd’s suite; he’d been up on the twenty-first to familiarize himself with the layout of the rooms. He made careful preparations for what he meant to do. Covered his finger tips with melted wax from a candle; the floor maid found the bedspread spattered with it.”
They were all standing again and, probably unconsciously, backing away from Yaker a little. He wet his lips.
“It’s all Greek to me — what he’s saying. I can’t remember—”
I kept pouring. “Mister Lanerd’s secretary had been in his suite around five-thirty. She stepped out in the hall to listen to a squabble in Miss Millett’s suite; that’s when the murderer slipped into Lanerd’s rooms unnoticed. He hid there awhile, expecting Lanerd to come in. But the adman didn’t show up.”
Yaker squeezed his forehead as if to force his memory to behave.
“Miss Moore came back into Lanerd’s living-room. From some phone conversation she had then, the murderer must’ve discovered Lanerd was going directly to Miss Millett’s, instead of coming to his own rooms. So the murderer decided to get in her suite, force her to conceal him until Lanerd’s arrival. He knew Lanerd was often admitted to Miss Millett’s bedroom after tapping a pre-arranged signal on her door. He’d heard the signal, could reproduce it. But he was afraid that, after opening the door, she’d slam it in his face before he could push in, unless he could somehow convince her it was Lanerd seeking admission. So he changed his coat for a jacket he found in Lanerd’s closet.”
Ruth goggled at Yaker, as if her eyes were about to pop right out of their sockets. I hurried on before Schneider gave way to his inclination to shut me up.
“He slipped into Lanerd’s coat, went to the corridor, rat-tatted the signal on Miss Millett’s door. Her maid pulled aside the bureau they’d shoved against the door as a protection from gunboy Gowriss. When the door opened a little, the murderer let them see the sleeve and shoulder of Lanerd’s jacket, so they hauled the bureau completely away, let him in.”
Tildy and Nikky fixed their eyes on me in utter consternation.
“When Miss Millett saw who it was, of course, she was horrified — particularly since the murderer’d snatched a steak knife off one of the serving-tables in the hall. She ran into the living-room to call Roffis. Probably the maid grappled with the intruder. Right, Miss Narian?”