"Kazmah and Mrs. Irvin could ha' come down to the fairst floor, or
gene up to the thaird floor unseen by the Spinker man," she said
dreamily.
"But they couldn't have reached the street, my dear!" cried Kerry.
"No--they couldn'a ha' gained the street."
She became silent again, her husband watching her expectantly. Then:
"If puir Sir Lucien Pyne was killed at a quarter after seven--the time
his watch was broken--the native sairvent did no' kill him. Frae the
Spinker's evidence the black man went awe' before then," she said.
"Mrs. Irvin?"
Kerry shook his head.
"From all accounts a slip of a woman," he replied. "It was a strong
hand that struck the blow."
"Kazmah?"
"Probably."
"Mr. Quentin Gray came back wi' a cab and went upstairs, free the
Spinker's evidence, at aboot a quarter after seven, and came doon five
meenites later sair pale an' fretful."
Kerry surrounded himself and the speaker with wreaths of stifling
smoke.
"We have only the bare word of Mr. Gray that he didn't go in again,
Mary; but I believe him. He's a hot-headed fool, but square."
"Then 'twas yon Kazmah," announced Mrs. Kerry. "Who is Kazmah?"
Her husband laughed shortly.
"That's the point at which I got stumped," he replied.
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