"Yes, I did," admitted Bawdsey, frankly; "you see she has a devil of a temper. I never knew that she had gone to see Mrs. Jersey on that night, although I might have guessed it because of the way she tried to learn the whereabouts of the house." "You mean the crimson light? Her excuse was foolish I thought the other day when you stated it," said George. "But when did you first suspect her?" "When I picked up the stiletto. I recognized it at once. It was my intention to take it round to her, so that she should not be incriminated, but I was so upset--as I said the other day--that I forgot all about the matter. When I did think, it was too late, for Derrington woke up and put on his coat. I wondered whether he would mention the stiletto to me. But he never did." "Because he knew nothing about it," said George. "Mrs. Ward stole it, as I told you." "Oh, I see how it is now. But I really did suspect Lola. I asked her if she was in the house. She said that she had been, although she denied it at first." "That's Lola's way," said George; "she always begins by denial. How did you bring her to confess?" "I threatened to identify the stiletto. Then she told the truth--if it was the truth," said Bawdsey, doubtfully. "Oh, I think so. I don't believe she killed the woman." "But you know her temper?" "Yes, I do, but since she has got what she wanted--the confession--there was no sense in her committing a murder. No, I quite believe that she threw the dagger at Mrs. Jersey's feet, as she said. It is just like one of Lola's impulsive actions." Bawdsey scratched his head. "I wonder who did kill Eliza," he muttered, "if Lola is innocent and I am innocent?" He looked at Brendon. "I can't help you," replied George, rising; "the thing is quite beyond me. It must have been some one in the house." "No," replied Bawdsey, positively; "remember, Mr. Train heard a door close--the front door--some time about half-past eleven." "That was you, was it not?" "No sir. I did not arrive till close on twelve, and Mrs. Jersey was already dead. The door must have been opened and closed by the murderer, and he left just before I arrived." "But how could he have entered? You alone had the latch-key. As to Lola, she slipped in while Mrs. Jersey was dismissing her guests." Bawdsey shook his head. "I can't understand it, sir. Of course there was another gentleman who had the house for a short time." He looked meaningly at Brendon. George looked puzzled. "What do you mean?" he asked. "Well, sir," began Bawdsey, with his invariable formula, "I don't like to mention names, and I am sure what I say will go no further, but there is Mr. Ireland----" Brendon started to his feet with an agitated face. "Ireland! Oh, no, that is impossible," he declared, "quite impossible! Why should he have a latch-key?"