Both were open, since the May
day was exceptionally warm, even for the Middle West. The unscreened
window from which he obediently leaned was almost directly in line with
the vanity dressing-table across the room.
"Look! See how them vines have been torn," Strawn directed, pointing to
a rambler rose which hugged the outside frame of the window. "And look
hard enough at the flower bed down below and you'll see his
footprints.... Of course we've measured them and Cain, as you see, is
guarding them till my man comes to make plaster casts of them.... Yes,
sir, he hoisted himself up to the window ledge, aimed as best he could,
then slipped down and beat it across the meadow."
"Then," Dundee began slowly, "I wonder why Mrs. Selim didn't see that
figure crouched in the window, since she must have been powdering her
face and looking into the middle of the three mirrors--the one which
reflects this very window?"
"How do you know she was powdering her face, not looking for something
in a drawer?" Strawn demanded truculently.
"For three reasons," Dundee answered almost apologetically. "First: her
powder puff, as I'm sure you noticed, is still clutched in her right
hand; second: there is no drawer open, and no drawer _was_ open, unless
someone has closed it since the murder, whereas on the other hand her
powder box _is_ open; third: the left side of her face is unevenly
coated with powder, while the other is heavily but _evenly_ powdered.
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