“Yet you hesitated,” the doctor looked at him keenly; “why did you?”
“A mere passing thought—better left unspoken.”
“All right, Mr Mansfield—perhaps you are wise. But, if asked to, you’d better speak your thought to the police.”
“Oh, sure. I’m a law-abiding citizen—I hope. Will they be here soon?”
“Nothing happens soon in matters like this. It’s delay, linger and wait on the part of everybody. I’m bothered—I’ve important affairs on hand—but here I must stick, till the arm of the law gets ready to strike.”
Davenport returned to Gleason’s apartment, where the stolid Chris kept guard.
“Well?” said the doctor, glancing at his man.
“Looks like a suicide to me, sir. Looks like he shot himself—there’s the revolver—I haven’t touched it. And then he fell over all in a heap.”
“Look again at his position. Near the desk, on which the telephone sits. He might have shot, and then——”
“No; but there may be another. I haven’t looked carefully yet. Ah, yes—see, Chris, here’s another bullet hole, in his left shoulder. Say, he fired that shot, then, getting cold feet, called off the suicide idea and telephoned for me. Then, getting desperate again, fired a second shot through his temple, which, of course, did for him—oh, a fanciful tale, I know—but, you see, the detective work isn’t up to me. When the police come they’ll look after that and I can go.”
But the police, arriving, were very much interested in this theory of Doctor Davenport’s.
Prescott, an alert young detective, who came with the inspector especially interested the physician by his keen-witted and clearly put questions.
“Did you know this man?” he asked among his first queries.
“Yes,” returned Davenport, “but not well. I’ve never been here before. He’s Robert Gleason, a very rich man, from Seattle. Staying here this winter, in this apartment which belongs to McIlvaine, a friend of Gleason’s.”
“In California. Gleason took over the place, furnished and all, for the winter months.”
“Yes”; Davenport hated to drag in the Lindsays, but it had to be done. “His sister, Mrs Lindsay, lives in upper Park Avenue.”
“No; I thought wiser to do nothing, until you people came. Also, I’m a very busy man, and outside my actual duty here, I can’t afford to spend much time.”