In Aldriff's hand was his favorite revolver, the weapon that had caused his
death. The case was obviously suicide, and Joan, wanting no one to doubt the
point, turned promptly to Nevlin.
"THOSE chairs are just as you left them," declared Joan. "You moved them
around when you took out the chess table. You can see for yourself that Mr.
Aldriff was going to put the table back, when he changed his mind and shot
himself, instead. This is suicide, and I can tell you why!"
Her eyes were blazing at the rest, along with Nevlin. But the secretary;
staring toward Aldriff's body, only shook his head.
"I can't believe it," said Nevlin slowly. "At least, I can't be sure just
yet. Please stand back, Miss Kelburn."
As Joan complied, Nevlin began to peer at every section of the room,
pointing, so that others would do the same. The nook, of course, was empty, its
flimsy chairs offering no place of concealment. The fireplace caught Nevlin's
eye and he urged the servant to look into it.
Crawling into the fireplace, the servant came out again, shaking his head.
"The damper is closed, Mr. Nevlin," he said. "And anyway, the chimney is
very narrow.
"I remember," nodded Nevlin. "Take a look behind the desk; but be careful.
Someone may be crouching there."
The servant hesitated, so two guests stretched across the desk and made
sure that no one was behind it. Nevlin glanced at the near corner on the right,
and so did others. That corner was empty. Even a midget could not have hidden
behind the small trophy case.
Someone suggested the bookshelves. Nevlin shook his head.
"They're flush against the wall," he said. "No chance of hiding there. We
have only one place left. Will you two gentlemen come from the desk and remove
the screen from the corner behind the door?"
Glistening with its gilded decorations, the new screen commanded all
attention. Shown plainly by the strong light from the desk lamp, the three-fold
screen looked flimsy; nevertheless, it could be hiding something more than a
filing cabinet.
There might be a murderer behind it!
Two men crept toward the screen, one from each side. As they were reaching
for it, there was a quick flash of light from the doorway of the room. One man
gave the screen a quick shove and dived away; the other man caught the screen in
his arms, flattened the folds together, and landed on it like a boy starting a
sled ride.
Each man went in an opposite direction, and Nevlin, seized by the general
hysteria, drove between them, swinging the fire ax.
Nevlin's blow landed with a clang that nearly floored him. He had smashed a
deep dent in the only object that occupied the final corner: the metal filing
cabinet. Dropping the ax, Nevlin yanked drawers from the cabinet as though he
expected to find a killer hiding in sections. With the ax, he prodded the
interior of the cabinet.
No one could have been there, because the drawers had filled the cabinet.
Nevlin's gestures with the ax brought clangs from the cabinet's thin metal
walls. The cabinet, itself, was in the very corner, so no one could be behind
