AT THE CROSS ROAD

Brown, the taxi driver, pointed to the body of a dead man sitting upright in the center of the back seat. “This stiff was talkin’ to a dame in front of the Hotel Burch when I pulled up there and delivered a passenger.

“He hailed me as I was about to shove off, and tole me to drive him to the Burlington cross road. I knew the shortest way, but the skirt tells me to take a longer route over the old bumpy road and when he says O. K., I did it. That’s why it took me so long to get there.”

“Go on,” said Professor Fordney.

“Honest to God, mister, I don’t know how he got that knife in his heart. I didn’t stop once—beat every light in the city and when I drew up at the cross road and he made no move to get out, I turned around and saw that knife stickin’ in him! There was a pole-light right there so I could see plainly.

“I just felt his pulse, then I beat it for headquarters—fast. I knew he was dead. I’ve seen plenty of stiffs in my time. But how that knife got in his heart, unless he stabbed himself, I don’t know.”

“Was the lady tall or short?”

“Short and thin…but a nice lookin’ bit…”

“Was the passenger you delivered to the hotel a woman?”

“Yeah…an old dame…”

“You’re lying, Brown, so I’m going to hold you,” interrupted the Professor.

How did Fordney know Brown was lying? Turn page for solution.