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Updated: May 31, 2025
"And if you care to be there and will listen, you shall hear him confess the crime." Her words and the tone of certainty in which she spoke almost dazed Greig. Even Britz had to struggle hard against betraying his amazement. The whole thing seemed incredible yet the detectives had experienced more incredible happenings in the course of their long service. "You say he will confess?"
Apparently he was bent on destroying evidence. Nor was it beyond the range of probability that he was the assassin and was busy erecting safeguards for himself. Yet Britz was reluctant to order his arrest, for he believed implicitly in the theory of giving a guilty man sufficient rope wherewith to hang himself. The activities of a man in jail are necessarily circumscribed.
So that even before Britz began issuing instructions to his men and sending them scurrying out of the building, the reporters at Police Headquarters appeared to know that something of the utmost importance was about to transpire. That it concerned the Whitmore case became evident when Mrs. Collins was escorted to the building and ushered into Britz's office.
Were I to force the issue they could not make out a case sufficient to justify my being held for the grand jury. I am staying here because I want to, because it is best that they should direct their efforts toward trying to prove me the murderer." Britz, in the darkness of his cell, indulged in an amused smile.
"I am sending the police photographer to the autopsy on Whitmore," he said. "Please don't cut the body or probe the wound until he has taken a picture of the bullet hole. It is most important. Also, let me have a copy of your report on the autopsy as soon as possible." Britz devoted the next hour to instructing his assistants in the work he required of them.
By alternately tyrannizing over and cajoling the prisoner for Collins virtually was a prisoner he had finally produced in him a condition of mind that invariably leads to confession. "Well, Collins!" Britz smiled encouragingly. "Only one man can save you that's yourself. You know as well as I how quickly the others would sacrifice you to save themselves.
Collins, divining with the sure instinct of a woman, the obvious conclusion which the detective had drawn from the letter, ventured another attempt to gain possession of it. "Now that you are convinced that it has no bearing on Mr. Whitmore's death, may I have it?" she asked. "Why are you so anxious to obtain it?" retorted Britz.
"As your attorney I instruct you not to answer this man's questions." "And as one who has no other desire than to serve the ends of justice, I urge you to disregard your lawyer's advice," Britz appealed to her. Between these conflicting forces she stood helpless, aware only of the danger which hung over her. Her lips moved as if to speak, but no word came from them.
Britz entered the room carrying a huge pile of papers which he deposited on a chair. From the top of the pile he took a letter, and, advancing toward her, asked: "Is this the note?" At sight of the letter her exhaustion vanished and she held out a trembling hand.
The quick succession of events had woven a fog before his brain, leaving him with but a misty perception of what had occurred. "I I don't know exactly where to begin," he stammered. "Did you follow her to the house?" Britz gave him an opening. "Yes," he replied. "I got a taxicab and trailed her machine. She got out in front of the door and went upstairs.
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