"You found no chisel in his room?"
Heath admitted that he hadn't.
"But you couldn't expect him to keep it around," he added.
Markham pondered the facts for several minutes.
"I can't see that we've got a very good case, however much we may be convinced of Skeel's guilt. His alibi may be thin, but taken in connection with the phone operator's testimony, I'm inclined to think it would hold tight in court."
"What about the ring, sir?" Heath was desperately disappointed. "And what about his threats, and his finger-prints, and his record of similar burglaries?"
"Contributory factors only," Markham explained. "What we need for a murder is more than a prima facie case. A good criminal lawyer could have him discharged in twenty minutes, even if I could secure an indictment. It's not impossible, you know, that the woman gave him the ring a week ago—you recall that the maid said he was demanding money from her about that time. And there's nothing to show that the finger-prints were not actually made late Monday afternoon. Moreover, we can't connect him in any way with the chisel, for we don't know who did the Park Avenue job last summer. His whole story fits the facts perfectly; and we haven't anything contradictory to offer."
Heath shrugged helplessly: all the wind had been taken out of his sails.
"What do you want done with him?" he asked desolately.
Markham considered—he, too, was discomfited.
