“That’s right,” Kee said. “It wasn’t even specially clever. He just picked up anything he saw about and laid it on the bed to fog things up. So what about motive? I can’t imagine any one wanting to kill Tracy for anything except a sordid reason. Money, I am sure, is the only motive.” “Love?” I said. “Was no one else enamoured of the beautiful Mrs. Dallas, and wanted Tracy out of the way?” “Of course, Charlie Everett adored her,” Lora said, “but he wouldn’t commit murder to get her. And if he did, he wouldn’t choose such a horrible, brutal method. He’d shoot his victim, not assassinate him with a hammer and nail!” “I think that, too,” Kee declared. “To my mind, that nail business indicates a low type of personality. A servant seems the most likely. Griscom, for choice.” Now I knew Keeley Moore well enough to know that if he suggested Griscom, Griscom was not the man he suspected. He had a way of drawing out other people, by hints and allusions, in hope of getting a side light on his own suspect. “If the motive was to achieve at once the legacy from the Tracy estate, then every inmate of that house is suspect. Farrell told me that Mr. Tracy’s will left a substantial bequest to each of the servants, to the secretary and to Mr. Ames,” I told my audience. “All right,” exclaimed Moore, “let’s begin at the top. What have we got against Harper Ames?” “His immediate need for money, his hateful, belligerent disposition, his love for Mrs. Dallas and his unhampered opportunity,” I declared, promptly. “I thought he was a woman hater,” cried Maud Merrill. “Why do you say he was in love with her?” “I may not be a detective,” I said, “but I am not entirely a nincompoop. When I saw those two people here last evening, I realized that whatever he calls himself, he’s no woman hater where Mrs. Dallas is concerned. He adores her; in the language of the poet, he worships the ground she walks on.” “Norris is right about that,” Keeley conceded. “I’ve seen it for some time. And when these avowed woman haters fall for a siren, they fall hard. Yes, Ames is head over ears in love with the lady, and for that very reason, he’s out of the running. A man isn’t going to commit murder to win a lady’s hand. It’s too dangerous a proceeding. If Ames were not in love with her, I might suspect him.” “But, hold on, Kee. There might be circumstances,” I said, “in which Ames lost his head, or his temper, or both, and let fly at Tracy in an ungovernable fit of rage——” “That murder wasn’t done in an ungovernable fit of rage, it was a premeditated affair. Whoever did it, came prepared with that nail and a hammer——” “Why a hammer?” I demanded. “The nail could have been driven in with any heavy object.” “Such as what?” I ruminated over the appointments of the room as I remember them, and said, a little lamely, “Well, one could take off his shoe to drive the nail.” “Yes, one could,” Kee assented, “but it doesn’t sound likely——”