I took a gun. I could not believe what I was hearing. Dupin was almost talking to himself. He looked at the wall as he continued with his story.
“People heard voices, but they were not the voices of the women. We know, the, that the mother did not kill her daughter and then herself. And we know too that Madame L’Espanaye was old and not strong enough. So someone murdered the ladies. The voices were the voices of the criminals. When you read the newspaper’ descriptions of the voices. Did you notice anything strange about them?”
“Everybody agreed that the rough voice belonged to a Frenchman,” I said slowly. “But they disagreed about the high voice.”
