“But I had no time to make sure. There was commotion and confusion, and I had to get away. I did not dare to go out through the stage entrance where there was a light. I knew my way to the communicating door, and I took a chance that the lights would not go up until I was through it. I brushed past the man who was supposed to guard it, in the dark, but I suppose he was too excited to notice. I got through and ran down past the boxes to the front of the house. People were already beginning to come out, and there was a lot of confusion. I had my dark scarf over my head, so I easily passed for one of the women in the audience who had turned faint and wanted air. I walked quietly out of the lobby and hailed a taxi. That’s all.” “What did you do then?” “I went home—to my hotel. I didn’t go in by the front way, but through the side entrance, and slipped into my room without meeting any one. I sent out for some chloral, for I knew I could not sleep without it, but I would not let my maid see me, for she would have noticed that I was without my coat.” “And the coat?” “Marita sent it back to me in the morning before Maria came to the door. I put it on a chair by the window so that it would seem to have been rained on that way. When the boy brought it, it was pouring outside, and the wet had soaked through the paper wrapping.” There was a short silence. The mystery was solved. It was curious to think that this small, black-clad figure was the criminal. Yet—when one looked deep into Kitty’s eyes, one might discern something of her Mexican mother’s temperament and her time-serving father’s selfishness which could explain her part in this tragedy. “And did you still believe that it was Miss Merivale that you had killed?” asked Inspector Lowry. “Yes; I believed it until that man”—again indicating Jim—“came to me in the morning and told me of Alan’s death. It was a frightful shock.” “I should imagine that it might have been,” remarked the inspector thoughtfully. “And when did you decide that it was—er—advisable—to get rid of him?” pointing to Barrison. “Yesterday afternoon, when he told me that you were bringing my sister back, and that he was going to have an interview in a short time with the boy who had done her errands. I knew then that he would soon learn too much. It was that boy who brought me the red coat the morning after Alan’s death, and I did not want him to talk.” “But surely you did not think that investigations would stop just because you had got Mr. Barrison out of the way?”