Detective and mystery stories, English; English fiction -- 20th century; Short stories, English
"It was entirely through her energy and exertions that certain
witnesses were induced to come forward and give what turned out to be
highly sensational evidence. The police who were convinced that
James Peyton was guilty had turned all their investigations in the
direction of proving their theories; Miss Monica, on the other hand,
had seemingly made up her mind that the murderer was to be sought for
inside the house; it even appeared as if she had certain suspicions
which she only desired to confirm. To this end she had questioned
and cross-questioned every one who was in the house on that fatal
night, well knowing how reluctant some people are to be mixed up in
any way with police proceedings. But at last she had forced two
persons to speak, and it was on the first day of the inquest that at
last a glimmer of light was thrown upon the mysterious tragedy.
"After the medical evidence which went to establish beyond a doubt
that Colonel Forburg died from a gunshot wound inflicted at close
range, both balls having penetrated the heart, Miss Glenluce was
called. Replying to the coroner, who had put certain questions to
her with regard to the Colonel's state of mind just before the
tragedy, she said that he appeared to have a premonition that
something untoward was about to happen. When the butler ran into the
dining-room saying that a burglar had been seen trying to break into
the house, the Colonel had jumped up from the table at once.
"'I did the same,' Miss Monica went on, 'as I was genuinely alarmed;
but my stepfather, in his peremptory way, ordered me to sit still.
"I believe," he said to me, with a funny laugh, "that it's a put-up
job. It's some friend of Thrall's giving him a hand." I could not,
of course, understand what he meant by that, and I looked at Mr.
Thrall for an explanation. I must add that Mr. Thrall had been
extraordinarily moody all through dinner; he appeared flushed, and I
noticed particularly that he never spoke either to my step-father, to
my brother, or to me. However at the moment I failed to catch his
eye, and the very next second he was out of the room, on the heels of
Colonel Forburg.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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