Janet nodded, cleared her throat, and said, “Yes,” in a small voice.
“And it’s about an inch long. A little less?”
“Yes.”
Wolfe turned to Brady. “Now for you, sir. Your professional knowledge. To establish a premise invulnerable to assault. Why did Miss Nichols carve a gash nearly an inch long on her arm? Why didn’t she jerk the brush away the moment she felt her skin being ruptured?”
“Why?” Brady was scowling at him. “For the obvious reason that she didn’t feel it.”
“Didn’t feel it?”
“Certainly not. I don’t know what premise you’re trying to establish, but with the bristles rubbing her skin there would be no feeling of the sharp glass cutting her. None whatever. She wouldn’t know she had been cut until she saw the blood.”
“Indeed.” Wolfe looked disappointed. “You’re sure of that? You’d testify to it?”
“I would. Positively.”
“And any other doctor would?”