CHAPTER VIII
The fog Thickens
THE coroner’s court was crowded, as it always is at any hearing presenting features of morbid or sensational interest, and Goldberg, with an inborn love of the theatric, arranged his witnesses so as to lead gradually to the climax, the dénouement. He put the janitor on the stand first, and then had Simmonds tell his story. Some medical testimony followed as to the exact nature of Thompson’s injuries, and the bullet, which had been extracted, was put in evidence—it was plainly much too large to have come from Miss Croydon’s pistol. Finally, Miss Croydon herself was called. A little gasp of delicious excitement ran through the crowd as she appeared at the door of the witness room. Here was a titbit to touch the palates of even the jaded police reporters.
Godfrey, looking at her as she came steadily forward to the stand, felt his heart warm with admiration. She seemed perfectly composed, and if not perfectly at ease, at least as nearly so as any woman of her position could be in such a place. Godfrey was pleased to see Drysdale in close attendance, and he nodded to him encouragingly.
Miss Croydon told her story clearly and with an accent of sincerity there was no doubting. It differed in one detail from the story she had told the night before. Thompson, she said, had perceived the intruder
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