First, by frightening me with anonymous threats--and, second, by urging me to leave.

Someone, who very possibly entered this house tonight shortly before the murder and slipped up that staircase!" The detective had listened to her outburst with unusual thoughtfulness.
A certain wonder--perhaps at her shrewdness, perhaps at an unexpected confirmation of certain ideas of his own--grew upon his face.

Now he jerked out two words.
"The Doctor ?" Miss Cornelia knitted on as if every movement of her needles added one more link to the strong chain of probabilities she was piecing together.
"When Doctor Wells said he was leaving here earlier in the evening for the Johnsons' he did not go there," she observed.

"He was not expected to go there.

I found that out when I telephoned." "The Doctor!" repeated the detective, his eyes narrowing, his head beginning to sway from side to side like the head of some great cat just before a spring.
"As you know," Miss Cornelia went on, "I had a supplementary bolt placed on that terrace door today." She nodded toward the door that gave access into the alcove from the terrace.