It was exactly twelve o'clock when Lydia Carr, accompanied by Detective
Collins of the Homicide Squad carrying a small suitcase, arrived at the
district attorney's office.
"I kept my eye on her every minute of the time, to see that there wasn't
no shenanigans," Collins informed Dundee and Sanderson importantly,
callous to the fact that the maid could hear him. "But I let her bring
along everything she said she needed to lay the body out in.... Was that
right?"
"Right!" agreed the district attorney, as Dundee opened the suitcase
upon Sanderson's desk.
The royal blue velvet dress lay on top, neatly folded. Dundee shook out
its folds. It looked remarkably fresh and new, in spite of the years it
had hung in Nita Selim's various clothes closets, preserved because of
God alone knew what tender memories. Perhaps the beautiful little dancer
had intended all those years that it should be her shroud....
"Oh, it's lovely!" Penny Crain, who was looking on, cried out
involuntarily. "It looks like a French model."
"It's a copy of a French model. You can see by the label on the back of
the neck," Lydia answered, her one good eye softening for Penny.
"So it is!" Dundee agreed, and took out his penknife to snip the threads
which fastened the white satin, gold-lettered label to the frock.
"'Pierre Model. Copied by Simonson's--New York City'," he read aloud,
and slipped the little square of satin into the envelope containing the
murdered woman's will. "Well, Penny, I'm glad you like the dress, for
I'm going to ask you to do the mannikin stunt in it as soon as Carraway
arrives with his camera."
Penny turned very pale, but she said nothing in protest, and Dundee
continued to unpack the suitcase. His masculine hands looked clumsy as
they lifted out the costume slip and miniature "dancing set"--brassiere
and step-ins--all matching, of filmiest white chiffon and lace. His
fingers flinched from contact with the switch of long, silky black
curls....
"She bought them after we came to Hamilton," Lydia informed him,
pointing to the undergarments. "Them black moiré pumps and them French
stockings are brand new, too--hundred-gauge silk them stockings are, and
never on her feet--"
"Ready for me?" Carraway had appeared in the doorway, with camera and
tripod.
"Yes, Carraway.... Just the dress, Penny.... I want full-length
front, back and side views of Miss Crain wearing this dress,
Carraway.... Flashlights, of course. Better take the pictures in Miss
Crain's office," Dundee directed. "You stay here, Lydia. I want to talk
with you while that job is being done."
"Yes, sir," Lydia answered, and accepted without thanks the chair he
offered.
"I suppose you have read _The Hamilton Morning News_ today, Lydia?"
"I have!"
"May I have that paper, chief?... Thanks!... Now, Lydia, I want you to
read again the paragraphs that are headed 'New York, May 25--' and tell
us if the statements are correct."
Lydia accepted the paper and her single eye scanned the following lines
obediently: