The other window, facing on the court, was raised a few inches, just as
Mrs. Morton had left it half an hour before. Duvall turned to his
companion with a puzzled frown.
"I had supposed, Mr. Baker," he said, "that someone had entered this
room, and frightened Miss Morton while she was asleep, but that is
impossible. The windows have not been disturbed."
Baker glanced at the one which faced the court.
"That one may have been," he said, indicating it with a nod. "Someone
may have come in that way, raising the window to effect an entrance, and
lowering it again after leaving."
"I admit that what you say would be possible, were there any way in
which the window might be reached from outside," Duvall replied, "but if
you will look out, and tell me how anyone could make an entrance from
the court, I will agree to the possibility you suggest."
Baker raised the window, and glanced out.
"The apartment above," Duvall went on, "is unoccupied, and the window
above is closed and fastened. The little attic in the adjoining house is
unused, although that is not important, since no one could reach this
window from it, in any event. Can you suggest any other way?"
Mr. Baker shook his head.
"She must have been frightened by some terrible nightmare," he said. "I
do not wonder at it. She has gone through enough to upset anybody's
nerves. Suppose we go back and question her."
"Just a moment," exclaimed Duvall. Then he dropped upon his knees beside
the disordered bed, and began to examine the surface of the counterpane
with minute care.
"What is it?" Baker asked, joining him.
"I don't know--yet," returned Duvall, as he took a magnifying glass from
his pocket and proceeded to scrutinize with the greatest interest some
marks upon the counterpane's surface. Presently he rose, replaced the
glass in his pocket, and turned to his companion.
"There is something very astonishing about this whole affair," he
exclaimed. "What do you make of those?" He indicated a series of dark
smudges upon the bedspread, arranged in little groups.
Baker bent over and examined the marks with an exclamation of surprise.
"Why--they look like finger prints," he cried. "Large finger prints."
"It is impossible to say whether they are finger prints or not," Duvall
replied. "As you see, there are a great many of them, very confusingly
arranged. But there is something else, that you have not noticed. What
do you suppose could have made a mark like this?" He pointed to a long
straight dark line, which extended half way across the counterpane, and
pointed directly toward the window which faced upon the court. The line
was very faint, but clearly defined, as though someone had laid a thin
dusty stick across the bed.
"I can't make anything of it," Baker exclaimed, gazing toward the
window.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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