Working calmly and efficiently, Pete Jordan hanged Martin John in the attic of John’s rented house. It was not until Jordan tried to shut the front door that he hit a snag. The lock was jammed.
“Better get out of here,” he thought, casting anxious glances at the dense woods surrounding the house.
Two hours later he was driving back to the house with Dr. Hall.
“Martin’s been morose since his divorce. I should have visited him, but nobody knew where he was hiding out. I got his address this afternoon when he telephoned me to say he was contemplating suicide. I thought you’d better come with me and perhaps have a talk with him.
“He said it was a white stucco house, 5228 School House Avenue, over the phone,” went on Jordan.
“Here we are.”
Hall left the car first. Finding the front door ajar, he entered and switched on the lights. Five minutes later the two men found Martin John in the attic.
As they stood silently staring at the body, a door chime sounded downstairs.
With Hall right behind him, Jordan hastened to the back door. There stood a teenage girl. “Mother asked me to return this bottle of milk to Mr. John,” she said.
Hall took the milk and after she had gone he called the police.
“You’d better arrest Mr. Jordan on suspicion of murder,” he said when they arrived.
Why?


