The real issue was that if it was
Jennie Brice's coat, and was found across the river on a cake of ice,
then one of two things was certain: either Jennie Brice's body wrapped
in the coat had been thrown into the water, out in the current, or she
herself, hoping to incriminate her husband, had flung her coat into
the river.
I told Mr. Holcombe, and he interviewed Joe Maguire that afternoon.
The upshot of it was that Tommy had been correctly informed. Joe had
witnesses who had lined up to see him rescue a dog, and had beheld his
return in triumph with a wet and soggy fur coat. At three o'clock
Mrs. Maguire, instructed by Mr. Graves, brought the coat to me for
identification, turning it about for my inspection, but refusing to
take her hands off it.
"If her husband says to me that he wants it back, well and good," she
said, "but I don't give it up to nobody but him. Some folks I know of
would be glad enough to have it."
I was certain it was Jennie Brice's coat, but the maker's name had
been ripped out. With Molly holding one arm and I the other, we took
it to Mr.
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