“Did you see who it was?”
“Yes. It was Mr. Richard Wyndham. I saw him when he struck Dr. Fisher’s arm. I pretended to faint then because I didn’t want him to know I’d recognized him.”
“Go on, please, Miss Lake.”
“We then telephoned the coroner and Mr. Richard Wyndham. I’d purposely refrained from telephoning him until I knew he was home, because I didn’t want him to be sure I knew what he was doing. Then when Mr. Wyndham came I went out.”
“You were willing to leave him there in the house when you were so anxious before that he shouldn’t be in the cellar?”
“Surely. Now that I knew it was Mr. Wyndham, and knew that he knew his aunt was dead, there’d hardly be any point in worrying about him. The place was his. He expected to inherit the house. I didn’t then know the will was gone.”
“No
