"Mrs. Balfame, is it not true that about two years ago you contemplated obtaining a divorce?" This time her eyes flashed with anger. "I see that my kind friends have been gossiping. You would seem to have interviewed everybody in town." "Pretty nearly. But you don't seem to realise that Elsinore--Brabant County, for that matter--has talked of nothing else but this case for the last four days." "I did think of a divorce for a short time, but I never mentioned it to him, and as soon as I thought it all out I dismissed the idea. In the first place, divorce is against the principles of the school in which I was brought up, and in the second Mr. Balfame was a good husband in his way. Every woman has some sort of a heavy cross to bear, and I guess mine was lighter than most. The trouble is, we American women expect too much. I dismissed the subject so completely from my mind that I had practically forgotten it." "Ah--yes--we thought you might have seen some one lurking in the grove and gone down to investigate." This was another chance shot. He was hoping for a "lead." Mrs. Balfame thought him inspired. For the moment the cold brilliant eyes of the woman and the keen contracted eyes of the reporter met and clashed. Then Mrs. Balfame displayed her teeth in her sweet and charming smile. "What a truly masculine inference. You don't know me. If I had seen anything I should have flown to the telephone and called the police." "You look indomitable," murmured Mr. Broderick. "But will you tell us how it happened that you did not hear the shot? The men down at Gifning's did." "They were standing on the porch, and I think now that I did hear the shot. But my windows were closed. I hear tires burst constantly. And that was Saturday night. The machines turn off just below our gate into Dawbarn Street, especially if they are bound for Beryl Myrtle's road house." "True." Broderick leaned forward, staring at the carpet. He permitted the silence to last quite a minute. Even Mrs. Balfame, who had congratulated herself that the inquisition must be nearly over, stirred uneasily, so sinister was that silence. The other men knew the Broderick method too well to spoil one of his designs; they sat in expectant stillness and turned upon Mrs. Balfame a battery of eyes. Suddenly Broderick raised his head and his sharp boring gaze darted into hers. "I had not fully intended to tell you of a discovery made by one of us yesterday. We have told no one as yet--waiting for just the right moment to publish it. But I think I'll tell you. There is evidence that two revolvers were fired that night. One killed David Balfame, and a bullet from the other penetrated the tree before the house and slightly to the right of where he must have stood for a moment. Bruce here dug it out. Now, not only did the men at Gifning's not hear two shots--indicating that they were fired simultaneously--but one bullet came from a .38 and the other from a .41."