"She's been hysterical—well—practically out of her head."
Garth could not fathom Randall's expression as he walked at his side towards the house.
"Of course," he said, "she'll be called as a witness against you—in fact the only human witness of the crime itself."
The doctor smiled contentedly.
"Yes," he said. "I should like to see her."
"Dr. Redding's with her," Garth explained, "but if it's in my presence I've no objection if he hasn't."
Garth waved the two excited detectives away. As he led Randall across the verandah he was provokingly conscious of something missing. When he had opened the door and taken his captive into the hall, he realized all at once what it was. Mrs. Randall's pitiful and chaotic crying no longer disturbed the quiet house. He noticed, too, that Dr. Redding had descended the stairs and leant against the newel post.
"Who's that?" Redding asked.
"Hello, Redding!" Randall said easily.
"Randall! They've got you!"
Randall's contented smile persisted.
"Mrs. Randall?" Garth asked in a low tone. "She's quieter now? Dr. Randall would like to see her."
Redding stepped forward swiftly.
"He can see her," he sneered, "if he's got the courage. She's dead."
He swung in a fury on Randall.
