ARROLL did not raise his eyes from the table, and Hall, following his lead, remained silent. Denson, still a bit shaken, seated himself again, and at length the silence grew too much for him. “Well, what about it?” he rasped.
Hall looked toward Carroll.
“What about it?” he echoed.
Carroll shook his head.
“I don’t know. What Mr. Denson tells me bears out my own theory to a certain extent.”
“Which is”
“That Miss Duval really thinks she killed Hamilton.”
“But, good God,” burst out Denson querulously, “don’t you suppose that a person knows when he kills another? How can there be a doubt about a thing like that?”
“It was dark in that room,” explained Carroll quietly, “for about six seconds. When we find out who turned off the lights and why, we’ll be closer to a solution. Until then—well, there is one thing certain, more than one person fired.”
“Yes,” said Hall, “three fired. We have the three revolvers—Mr. Hamilton’s, which both Miss Duval and Harrelson claim to have used; that of this man Hartigan, and Badger’s. All are police revolvers.”
“That’s a rather far-fetched coincidence, isn’t it?” questioned Denson.
“Ye-e-s; but so is the triple shooting. I gave Hamilton his weapon some time ago; he had a ridiculous, rusty old .32 which I used to joke him about. One day he jocularly remarked that if I didn’t like it I could give him another, and that’s how he happened to get a regulation revolver. I liked it and bought one. Badger bought his from a pawnshop where some police man evidently pawned it in sudden need for money. And Hartigan”
“And Hartigan?” prompted Carroll.
“Probably got his from a pawnshop, too, knowing that it is an efficient weapon. It’s funny, though”
“Damned funny!” snapped Denson. “Especially as only two shots were fired. How do you tally that with the three empty revolvers?”
“There are two solutions,” replied Carroll deliberately. “The first is that two shots were fired simultaneously—or so closely together that the reverberation in this room caused the hearers to think that it was one shot; the second following right afterward. The other solution is that—only two shots were fired!”
“Only two shots? We have the three revolvers.”
“That is only an idea, probably absurd. My first theory may be the correct one. But we’ll take that up later. Meanwhile, Mr. Denson, didn’t I understand that you visited Hamilton tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“The call was partly social and partly a business affair. The business end of it had to do with some affidavits I was getting for him in this Civic League work. And after what I saw there tonight I am trebly unable to believe that Miss Duval shot him.”
“There was no trouble between Mr. Hamilton and Miss Duval tonight?”
“Nothing unusual. She has never liked him. What I’m driving at is Badger.”
“What about Badger?”
“The truth of the story he tells. You see, gentlemen, I was there when Badger threatened to kill Hamilton!”
“A-a-h!” Carroll leaned forward eagerly. “You hadn’t mentioned that,”
“I’ve been trying to sift things for myself; trying to know what facts to tell and what to conceal. Now, since I’m telling everything—both helpful and detrimental to my clients—I may as well tell what happened when I visited there tonight.”
“Y-e-s,” said Carroll, “please.”
“I had telephoned Mr. Hamilton that I was coming down with those affidavits to talk things over with him. Shortly after I got there—and up to that time our talk had been purely social—Miss Duval came in. She was in evening dress, just as she is now. We rose, and Hamilton asked her where she was going. She replied that she was going out with Harrelson. Hamilton flushed and reminded her that he had forbidden Harrelson to the house. She flared up, trying not to show it too much before me, and said that she was over twenty-one years of age and would not be dictated to. Hamilton replied that he didn’t care to discuss the matter, but that he did not intend to have Harrelson visit the house nor allow her to go out with him. She swept out of the room, furiously angry.