“Your hopes of removing my stepfather by due process of law,” Joan continued, “were unfortunately frustrated. You were, therefore, in the position of having committed two murders for nothing, unless you could find some fresh means of profiting by them. You found such means. As soon as you heard of my stepfather’s release you made your plans. Soon after his release you met him, and somehow or other, persuaded him to make a will in your favour. I do not know how you did it; but I presume there was some agreement between you to share the proceeds of your deal. You then attempted, on the strength of your joint expectations under Sir Vernon’s will, to raise a large loan from one who was a friend of yours—Sir John Bunnery. You were in serious financial trouble, and only a considerable immediate supply of money could save you from bankruptcy and disgrace. That, I think, is correct.” Joan paused, but this time Woodman had nothing to say. His face had gone grayer still. He stared at Joan, and his hand strayed towards one of the drawers of the table before him. But he remained silent. This time, however, Joan pressed him for an answer. “Do you admit now that what I have said is true?” she asked. And, as he still said nothing, “We can prove it all, you know,” Ellery added. Woodman pulled himself together with an effort. “You have told the police all this?” he asked. “Not a word as yet,” said Joan. “We decided to see you first.” “May I ask why?” “If it can be helped, we do not want your wife to suffer more than she must for what you have done. Nor do we want a scandal. If you will leave the country, and never come back, we will do what we can to hush the whole thing up.” A light came into Woodman’s ashen face. “I see,” he said. “Do you admit that all we have told you is true?” “It doesn’t seem to be much good denying it now.” “You will sign, in our presence, a confession that you committed these murders?” “I don’t know what for. No, I won’t sign anything.” “But you admit it.” “Between ourselves, yes. In public, a thousand times no.” Woodman even smiled as he said this. “You admit it to us.” “Yes, yes. Haven’t I said so? But there are some things not even you seem to know.” “Won’t you tell us them, Mr. Woodman, just to make our story complete?” said Ellery. “Remember that we are proposing to let you go. We are taking some risks in doing that.” “Not for my sake, I’ll be bound. But I don’t mind telling you. What do you want to know?” “How the murders were actually done.” “Oh, I have no objection to telling you. Indeed, I flatter myself the thing was rather prettily arranged.” Woodman had almost regained his outward composure and spoke with some of his accustomed assurance.