toward the front of the house. There was a small linen closet between Ada's room and Mrs. Greene's; and at the rear of the hall were the servants' stairs.
Chester Greene explained this arrangement to us briefly, and then walked up the hall to Julia's room.
"You'll want to look in here first, I imagine," he said, throwing open the door. "Nothing's been touched—police orders. But I can't see what good all that stained bed-linen is to any one. It's a frightful mess."
The room was large and richly furnished with sage-green satin-upholstered furniture of the Marie Antoinette period. Opposite to the door was a canopied bedstead on a dais; and several dark blotches on the embroidered linen gave mute evidence of the tragedy that had been enacted there the night before.
Vance, after noting the disposition of the furniture, turned his gaze upon the old-fashioned crystal chandelier.
"Were those the lights that were on when you found your sister last night, Mr. Greene?" he asked casually.
The other nodded with surly annoyance.
"And where, may I ask, is the switch?"
"Behind the end of that cabinet." Greene indifferently indicated a highly elaborated armoire near the door.
"Invisible—eh, what?" Vance strolled to the armoire and looked behind it. "An amazin' burglar!" Then he went up to Markham and spoke to him in a low voice.
After a moment Markham nodded.
"Greene," he said, "I wish you'd go to your room
