Fifteen minutes later, you're looking at the body on the floor in front of an easel, next to a huge puddle of bright red paint. Over McLean's right temple is a gruesome, bloody wound.

You note the victim's immaculate clothing: powder blue sport coat, elegant maroon tie, snow-white shirt, light gray slacks, and tan shoes- even the soles are spotless. An unfinished colour illustration rests on the easel.

Tom Randall begins,"I hadn't seen Phil for several months, since just before he got married. Ill tell you about this now, since you're sure to find out about it. The girl he married used to be engaged to me. There was some bad feelings between Phil and me, but it all got smoothed over."

"Suppose you tell me how this happened," you say.

"I had a sudden impulse this afternoon to pay Phil a surprise visit, to let him know I didn't bear any grudges. When I came into the studio, he was painting, his back to me. I guess he didn't hear me come in. Then when I spoke, I must have really startled him. He dropped that paint on the floor, and as he turned around quickly, he accidentally stepped into the paint, slipped and hit his head on the corner of the easel! The blow, combined with the fact that he had a weak heart, must've done it. I called you as soon as I got over my shock. I only wonder how Betty will feel when she hears the story!"

"Story is right!" you snap. "I want you to tell me the truth!"