Mr. Jamieson shook it, but it was a heavy door, well locked.
If Gertrude had been on the circular staircase that night, why had she fled from Mr. Jamieson?
The oddest thing to me was that Mr. Jamieson had known for some time that Alex was Jack Bailey.
Mr. Jamieson examined the windows: one was unlocked, and offered an easy escape. The window or the door?
On the moment of starting west, at Andrews Station, where Mr. Jamieson had located the car, he read that the bank had closed, and, going back, surrendered himself.