"Could you make out anything that was said?"
Cleaver frowned and looked past Markham through the open window.
"I know what the words sounded like," he said slowly. "I didn't think anything of them at the time. But after reading the papers the next day, those words came back to me"
"What were the words?" Markham cut in impatiently.
"Well, as near as I could make out, they were: 'Oh, my God! Oh, my God!'—repeated two or three times."
This statement seemed to bring a sense of horror into the dreary old office—a horror all the more potent because of the casual, phlegmatic way in which Cleaver repeated that cry of anguish. After a brief pause Markham asked:
"When you heard this man's voice, what did you do?"
"I walked softly back down the rear hall and went out again through the side door. Then I went home."
A short silence ensued. Cleaver's testimony had been in the nature of a surprise; but it fitted perfectly with Mannix's statement.
Presently Vance lifted himself out of the depths of his chair.
"I say, Mr. Cleaver, what were you doing between twenty minutes to twelve—when you phoned Miss Odell—and five minutes to twelve—when you entered the side door of her apartment-house?"
"I was riding up-town in the Subway from 23d Street," came the answer after a short pause.
"Strange—very strange." Vance inspected the
