"Some one who knew he had the papers. Some one who knew something of their value, and some one who knows the safety there is in boldness, and had the nerve to carry through an affair that might break down at any point. I knew long since that some one was with Mr. Wing in the evening after you left him, and that the visitor stayed very late. I also know that, contrary to what was generally supposed, this room was visited after the murder. Some one passed over his dead body, entered the room, and took the papers. The question is, who was bold enough to commit the theft under such conditions?"
The picture that Trafford drew of the murder and the theft stirred Mrs. Parlin, already wrought upon by the interview, to a state of nervous excitement that was most distressing. Too late, the detective realised that in such a state she was scarcely a safe custodian for the secret he had given into her keeping. She walked the room, wringing her hands and asking herself:
"Why didn't I burn them; why didn't I burn them? I might at least have saved Theodore! I am his murderer."
