Raspberry Jam

“Their duty is to find out who killed my husband!” and Eunice gave Shane another stormy glare. “They cannot do that by accusing two innocent women!”

“If you two women can be proved innocent, nobody will be more glad than me,” Shane announced, in a hearty way, that was really generous after Eunice’s treatment of him. “But it beats me to see how it can be proved. You admit, ma’am, nobody could get into Mr. Embury’s room, except you and Miss Ames, don’t you?”

“I don’t admit that at all, for the murderer did get in—and did commit the murder—therefore, there must be some means of access!”

“Oho! And just how can you suggest that an intruder got in, and got out again, and left those doors fastened on the inside?”

“That I don’t know—nor is it my business to find out.”

“Maybe you think a flyin’ machine came at the window, ma’am! For nothin’ else could negotiate a ten-story apartment.”

“Don’t talk nonsense! But I have heard of keys that unlock doors from the outside—skeleton keys, I think they are called.”

“Yes, ma’am, there are such, sure! But they’re keys—and they unlock doors. These doors of yours have strong brass catches that work only on the inside, snap-bolts, they are. And when they’re fastened, nothing from the other side of the door could undo ‘em. But, I say—here you, Ferdinand!”

The butler came forward, his face surprised rather than alarmed, and stood at attention.

“What do you know of events here last night?” Shane asked him.

“Nothing, sir,” and Ferdinand’s face was blankly respectful.

“You’d better tell all you know, or you’ll get into trouble.”

“Could you—could you make your question a little more definite?”

“I will. When Mr. and Mrs. Embury came home last night, were they in good humor?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“You do know! You know your employers well enough to judge by their manner whether they were at odds or not. Answer me, man!”

“Well, sir, they were, I should judge, a little at odds.”

“Oh, they were! In what way did they show it? By quarreling?”

“No, sir.”

“How, then?”

“By not saying anything. But it’s not uncommon for them to be at odds, sir—”

“Speak when you’re spoken to! After Mr. Embury went to his room, did you attend him?”

“I was in his room, yes.”

“Mrs. Embury was in her own room then?”

“Yes.”

“Her outer door was closed?”

“Yes.”

“And, therefore, fastened by the snap-bolt?”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“Don’t you know so? Don’t you know that it must have been?”

“Yes.”

“And then—then, when you left Mr. Embury’s room—when you left him for the night—did you close his door?”

“I did.”

“And that, of itself, locked that door?”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“Stop saying you suppose so. You know it did! You’ve lived in this house two years; you know how those doors work—you know your closing that door locked it? Didn’t it?”

“Yes, it did. I turned the knob afterward to make sure. I always do that.”

Ferdinand now seemed to be as discursive as he was reticent before. “And I know Miss Eunice’s—Mrs. Embury’s door was locked, because she had to unbolt it before I could get in this morning.”

“But look here,” Driscoll broke in, “are these doors on that snap-bolt all day? Isn’t that rather an inconvenience?”

“Not all day,” vouchsafed Ferdinand. “They can be turned so the bolt doesn’t catch, and are turned that way in the daytime, usually.”

“But,” and Driscoll looked at him intently, “you can swear that the bolts were on last night?”

“Yes, sir—”

“You can’t!” Hendricks shot at him. The lawyer had been listening in silence, but he now refuted Ferdinand. “You don’t know that Mrs. Embury put on the catch of her door when she closed it.”

“I do, sir; I heard it click.”

“You are very observant,” said Shane; “peculiarly so, it seems to me.”

“No, sir,” and Ferdinand looked thoughtful; “but, you see, it’s this way. Every night I hear the click of those locks, and it sort of seems natural to me to listen for it. If it should be forgotten, I’d think it my duty to call attention to it.”

“A most careful butler, on my word!” Shane’s tone was a little sneering.

“He is, indeed!” Eunice defended; “and I can assert that it is because of his faithfulness and efficiency that we have always felt safe at night from intrusion by marauders.”

“And you did lock your door securely last night, Mrs. Embury?”

“I most assuredly did! I do every night. But that does not prove that I killed my husband. Nor that Miss Ames did.”