“Why?”

“Garry Gresham will undoubtedly be freed; it was a clear case of self-defense.  Unfortunately, the fact that there was an elopement will have to be known—­but that is a comparatively trivial thing, unpleasant as it may be for Miss Gresham.  And, most of all—­I’m glad because Naomi Lawrence’s name will not be dragged into it.”

“How will you work that, David?”

“It can be done, Eric.  The district attorney is a pretty good friend of mine—­and he’s a good square fellow.  Of course he will have to know the entire story; and it is a certainty that he will believe it.  And when he does—­you know that he will handle the case so that Mrs. Lawrence will not be connected.  Irregular—­yes.  But you believe he can—­and will—­do it, don’t you?”

“You bet your bottom dollar he will.  He’s another nut like you—­so bloomin’ human it hurts.”

“And now—­” said Carroll, “I want to chat with William Barker.  There are one or two loose ends I want to clear up.”

Barker was very humble as he entered the room.

“You’re free of the murder charge,” stated Carroll promptly, “but we may hold you for blackmail.”

Barker heaved a sigh of relief.  “I ain’t objectin’ to that, Mr. Carroll.  It’s a small thing when a man has thought he might be strung up.”

“Who killed Warren?” questioned the detective.

“Don’t you know?” came the surprised answer.

“Yes—­but I’m asking you.”

“I suppose you’re driving at something new,” retorted Barker, “but I really think Mrs. Lawrence shot him.”

“She didn’t,” answered Carroll.  “And there’s one thing I want to warn you about right now, Barker.  You’re the only person except the Chief here, and myself, who knows that Mrs. Lawrence is connected with the case.  I want her name kept out of it.  Of course that makes it impossible to arrest you for blackmail—­and so, if you tell me the entire truth, I’m going to let you go free.  But if I ever hear of her name in connection with this case I’ll know that you have leaked—­and I’ll get you if it takes me ten years.  Understand?”

“Yes, sir, I do—­thankin’ you, sir.  I know which side my bread is buttered on.”

“Good.  Now I’m telling you that Mrs. Lawrence did not shoot Warren.  Who did?”

“I don’t know—­” Suddenly his expression changed.  “If it wasn’t her, Mr. Carroll—­it must have been Mr. Gresham.”

“Aa-a-ah!  What makes you think that?”

Barker’s eyes narrowed.  “You give me your word of honor, Mr. Carroll, I ain’t goin’ to be pinched for blackmail?”

“Yes.”