Graham's tone was shocked and discouraged.
"What more do you want? Why haven't you arrested him?"
In this room the detective's satisfied chuckle was an offence.
"No good detective would ask that, Mr. Graham. I want my report clean. The coroner will tell us how the old
man was killed. I want to tell how young Blackburn got into that room. One of the windows was raised a
trifle, but that's no use. I've figured on the outside of the wing until I'm dizzy. There's no way up for a normal
man. An orangoutang would make hard work of it. His latch key would have let him into the house, and it
would have been simple enough for him to find out that the old man had changed his room. I've got to find out
how he got past those doors, locked on the inside."
He chuckled again.
"Almost like a sleep-walker's work."
Bobby shivered. Was that where the evidence pointed? Already the net was too finely woven. The detective
continued earnestly:
"I'm figuring on some scheme to make him show me the way. I've a sort of plan for to-night, but it's only a
chance."
"What?" Graham asked.
"Oh, no, sir," Howells laughed. "You'll learn about that when the time comes."
"I don't understand you," Graham said. "You're sure of your man but you keep no close watch on him. Do you
know where he is now?"
"Haven't the slightest idea, Mr. Graham."
"What's to prevent his running away?"
"I'm offering him every opportunity. He wouldn't get far, and I've a feeling that if he confessed by running
he'd break down and give up the whole thing. You've no idea how it frets me, Mr. Graham. I've got my man
practically in the chair, but from a professional point of view it isn't a pretty piece of work until I find out how
he got in and out of that room. The thing seems impossible, and yet here we are, knowing that he did it. Well,
maybe I'll find out to-night. Hello!"
The door opened. Bobby from his hiding place could see Paredes on the threshold, yawning and holding a
cigarette in his fingers.
"Here you are," he said drowsily. "I've just been in the court. It made me seek company. That court's too
damp, Mr. Detective."
His laugh was lackadaisical.
"When the sun leaves it, the court seems full of, unfriendly things--what the ignorant would call, ghosts. I'm
Spanish and I know."
The detective grunted.