“I very often get a great deal of blame because I won’t do things in a regulation way. But, even while I get the blame, I also get the results—sometimes, not always.” The inspector looked around him thoughtfully, and repeated: “Not always. As most people know, the first thing we must do in locating a crime is to find out who could have done it; next, who wanted to do it. The opportunity is valueless without the wish; the wish is not enough without the opportunity. But, of the two essential points, the opportunity is the big thing. For instance, some one standing in Miss Merivale’s position—I mean, of course, her physical position—might have that opportunity. It also seems to me that some one standing on the stage level, on the right of the steps, and reaching upward, would have practically the same opportunity.” He took the little pistol and balanced it lightly in his big hand. Then he walked over to the point at which the weapon had been found at the side of the steps which was farthest from the front. He raised his arm and pointed at Barrison, who still stood where Mortimer had been standing. “You see,” he said, “it could have been done this way. The bullet would have entered the body under the right arm as he picked Miss Merivale up, supposing her story to have been true.” “Then,” exclaimed Norman Crane eagerly, “that eliminates both Miss Merivale and myself from the suspects!” “It surely eliminates you,” rejoined the police officer calmly, “because you couldn’t have thrown this gun through the door so that it fell where it did fall, unless you were a particularly skillful baseball pitcher; and then you couldn’t! But, as for Miss Merivale—Miss Merivale, we will suppose that you are going to shoot this man; please consider Mr. Barrison in that light. He is taller than you; the weapon you use may be held close to your side to avoid detection.” “I had no weapon!” she flashed. “Naturally not, naturally not!” agreed the inspector, with a pacific wave of his hand. “But you might have had, you know——” “How could——” “Pouf, pouf, my dear Miss Merivale! How you carried it—or, rather, could have carried it, is a secondary matter. I never saw a woman’s costume yet in which she could not secrete anything she wanted. Your dress is one of the very modern, extra loose coat affairs; there are a hundred ways in which you _could_ have secreted anything you wished. I didn’t say you had; I merely said that you were foolish to say it was impossible. As I was saying, if you did happen to have a pistol and did happen to shoot it off at Mr. Mortimer, the angle would be very much the same as that taken by the bullet of some one standing somewhat below and reaching upward as far as they could.” “Oh!” cried Sybil breathlessly. “You forget—he would have been shot squarely in front, if I had done it—or Norman!” “Yes?” said Lowry, pleasantly attentive. “Why, yes!” she reminded him. “He was facing me.” “We have only your word,” said the officer gently.