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He tried to remember when he had used it last, when he had last seen it. All that he could recall was that, the afternoon before, he had used it to write a note in a memorandum book. How and where had he lost it, and how had it come into Shepley's suite? Had he dropped it in the hotel lobby during his short quarrel with Shepley, while he was shaking the man?
It was almost a prison room, for there were steel bars at the windows, and only the one door. Prale walked to one of the windows and looked down at the street, his arms folded across his breast, trying to think it out. The finding of that fountain pen in the room beside Rufus Shepley's body was what puzzled and bothered him the most. How on earth could it have come there?
Creed's accounts to be made up, and from thence by coach to my cozen Thomas Pepys, to borrow L1000 for my Lord, which I am to expect an answer to tomorrow. So to my Lord's, and there staid and dined, and after dinner did get my Lord to view Mr. Shepley's accounts as I had examined them, and also to sign me a bond for my L500. Then with Mr. Shepley to the Theatre and saw "Rollo" ill acted.
I did give them a mince pie and a collar of brawn and some wine for their breakfast, and were very merry, and sent for Mr. Adamson's neighbour to drink Mr. Shepley's health.
Sidney Prale, his face still flaming, whirled around and started for the entrance, the crowd parting to let him through. Rufus Shepley, fuming and fussing, followed him slowly. The house detective accompanied him to the door. Prale was waiting at the curb, a Prale whose face was white now because of the temper he was fighting to control. He stepped close to Shepley's side.
"That is one of the biggest puzzles in the whole thing, Murk. I cannot remember exactly when I had the pen last. I cannot imagine how it got into Shepley's room and on the floor beside his body. That fountain pen of mine is an important factor in this case, Murk, and it has me worried."
4th. Up early, and Mr. Moore comes to me and tells me that Mr. Barnwell is dead, which troubles me something, and the more for that I believe we shall lose Mr. Shepley's company.
I did give them a mince pie and a collar of brawn and some wine for their breakfast, and were very merry, and sent for Mr. Adamson's neighbour to drink Mr. Shepley's health.
"You keep right on trying to figure it out," Farland advised him. "You might think of something in time that will give me a start in my work." "Why did the banker and hotel manager lie?" Prale asked. "Why did the clothing-store man and the barber lie? Why did George Lerton declare that he did not see me and speak to me last night? And how did my fountain pen get into Shepley's room?" "Huh!
You are worth a million dollars, and this man probably was ready to lie a little for a wad of money." "He tells the truth " "It's too thin, Prale! And don't forget the fountain pen that was found beside Shepley's body, either! As for you Murk, or whatever your right name is, you are under suspicion yourself." "What's that?" Murk snarled. "You are under suspicion, I said.
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