He caught himself up suddenly as he realized the slip he had made, and a look of dogged despair came over his face, but he added hastily:
"What are those darker ashes from? What had been burned in the grate before my letters?"
"That will be determined on analysis." The detective seemed not to have noted Gene's damaging statement, and the young man breathed freer again. "You say it is a habit of yours to burn things here; surely you can recall approximately the last time you made use of the grate. Was it a few days ago, a week, a month?"
"It was a week ago." The reply came sullenly in a lowered tone.
"What did you burn then?"
"Merely some old letters and snapshots. I—I was cleaning out a trunk; I meant to go camping next week."
The explanation was offered glibly, yet Gene could not meet Odell's eyes; and he flushed as if conscious that his falsehood had been recognized for what it was although the detective gave no outward sign. Instead he rose, brushed off his knees and remarked in a brisk, changed tone:
"If your memory should improve let me know. I am going now to your brother's room. Will you come and show me where the body was when you discovered it?"
"I didn't discover it," Gene denied sulkily. Nevertheless, he turned to the door. "Peters did that, when my stepfather sent him up here to call Julian. When he gave the alarm Dad was the first to reach the room; I tried to pass him but he blocked the stairway. Julian's room was empty and Dad called once, then went to the bathroom door and collapsed against it at—at what he saw. I followed and
