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Updated: September 15, 2025
Kiametia will be the first to enjoy the joke." "If it had been anyone but Sinclair Spencer!" Mrs. Whitney shook her head forlornly. "She has developed an intense dislike for him." "And Kiametia is usually a woman of discernment." His sarcasm passed unheeded, and he opened the hall door. "Hurry and dress, Minna, I'll wait for you in the dining-room. Heavens! What's that?"
"Strange, very strange," he muttered, as she brought the recital to an end. "How did Kathleen come to enter the elevator without seeing its occupant?" "You take it for granted that Spencer was dead at that time?" asked the spinster. A look of horror crept into Foster's eyes. "Kiametia, what do you mean to insinuate? Your question implies " "Nothing," hastily.
Henry stepped closer. "Miss Kiametia Grey found Mr. Whitney in his studio lying on the floor unconscious." "Miss Grey found him!" Miller's eyes opened wide in astonishment. "Yes, Herr Captain; at four o'clock in the morning," with significant emphasis, and the two men looked at each other. "And what was Miss Grey doing in the attic at that hour of the morning?"
"Tell me, Kathleen," broke in Miss Kiametia, "how did it happen that Sinclair Spencer had a flower from your bouquet in his hand?" "I don't know, except that I wore the flowers the night before, and one may have fallen on the floor of the elevator and he picked it up." Julie, who had followed Kathleen's every word with the closest attention, stepped to Miller Trent's side.
Whitney, that I will come back this evening; and you must both count on me if there is anything I can do for you." "Won't you wait for Captain Miller?" asked Miss Kiametia, concealing her disappointment at the abrupt termination of the interview. "Miller? I'm afraid not. Please tell him I was called away and that I leave my touring car at his service."
Whitney; I told Henry to take it out until yours was repaired." "You were very kind; Winslow went out in it." Mrs. Whitney's glance strayed to the door; she was anxious to return to her husband's bedside. "And with your permission, Randall, I'm going to use your car now to take me home," chipped in Miss Kiametia. "Oh, Kiametia, you must not go," protested Mrs. Whitney.
"Was Spencer so foolish as to bait Winslow ..." "Careful," cautioned Miller, his quick ear detecting a footstep in the adjoining drawing-room. An instant later Miss Kiametia Grey stepped into the library. "Thank goodness you have come," she exclaimed, darting toward Foster. "I've wanted you so much ..." "My darling" Foster, forgetful of Miller's presence, clasped her hand in both of his.
"I can't say; possibly the servants can tell you." "Will you find out from them before I go?" Miss Kiametia nodded affirmatively, and he asked; "Has Kathleen spoken to you of seeing him since Spencer's death?" "No." "Has she ever confided to you whether she cares for him or not?" "Not in words," dryly. "But my woman's intuition tells me ..." "Yes?" as she paused.
"Kathleen is completely unnerved; come and help me quiet her." At that moment Henry arrived, tray in hand. "I couldn't find the whiskey, sir," he explained, breathless with hurry. "But here's some cognac, sir. Let me pour it out," and he handed a filled liqueur glass to Whitney, who swallowed the stimulant at a gulp. "Shouldn't mind having some of that myself," announced Miss Kiametia.
Winslow Whitney will be the next witness," announced Coroner Penfield, first signifying to Miss Kiametia Grey that her presence was no longer required in the witness chair, and the spinster, with an audible sigh of relief, picked up her gold mesh purse and its dangling accessories and hastily left the room.
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