dence—an embarras de richesse, in fact. And any jury would delight in convicting him,—I would, myself, if only for the way he dresses.—Fourthly, I point with pride to Mrs. Platz. Another perfect circumst'ntial case, fairly bulging with clues and inf'rences and legal whatnots.—Fifthly, I present the Colonel. I have just rehearsed your case against him; and I could elab'rate it touchin'ly, given a little more time."
He paused, and gave Markham a smile of cynical affability.
"Observe, please, that each member of this quintette meets all the demands of presumptive guilt: each one fulfills the legal requirements as to time, place, opportunity, means, motive, and conduct. The only drawback, d' ye see, is that all five are quite innocent. A most discomposin' fact—but there you are. . . . Now, if all the people against whom there's the slightest suspicion, are innocent, what's to be done? . . . Annoyin', ain't it?"
He picked up the alibi reports.
"There's pos'tively nothing to be done but to go on checking up these alibis."
I could not imagine what goal he was trying to reach by these apparently irrelevant digressions; and Markham, too, was mystified. But neither of us doubted for a moment that there was method in his madness.
"Let's see," he mused. "The Major's is the next in order. What do you say to tackling it? It shouldn't take long: he lives near here; and the entire alibi hinges on the evidence of the night-boy at his apartment-house.—Come!" He got up.
