breaker suddenly taking alarm, losing his head, and needlessly shooting people."
Greene rose abruptly and began pacing up and down.
"I can't argue the case," he muttered. "It's beyond all that, if you understand me." He looked quickly at the District Attorney with staring eyes. "Gad! It's got me in a cold sweat."
"It's all too vague and intangible," Markham observed kindly. "I'm inclined to think the tragedy has upset you. Perhaps after a day or two"
Greene lifted a protesting hand.
"It's no go. I'm telling you, Markham, the police will never find their burglar. I feel it—here." He mincingly laid a manicured hand on his breast.
Vance had been watching him with a faint suggestion of amusement. Now he stretched his legs before him and gazed up at the ceiling.
"I say, Mr. Greene—pardon the intrusion on your esoteric gropings—but do you know of any one with a reason for wanting your two sisters out of the way?"
The man looked blank for a moment.
"No," he answered finally; "can't say that I do. Who, in Heaven's name, would want to kill two harmless women?"
"I haven't the groggiest notion. But, since you repudiate the burglar theory, and since the two ladies were undoubtedly shot, it's inferable that some one sought their demise; and it occurred to me that you, being their brother and domiciled en famille, might know of some one who harbored homicidal sentiments toward them."
