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Sir Benjamin, jarred thoroughly, shook his fist in the air.

"Man," he said, "you — you're-this is the insanest-! You've no evidence he was murdered! You―"

"Oh, yes I have," said Dr. Fell.

Sir Benjamin stared at him. Dorothy Starberth had risen, her hand making a gesture….

"But, look here," the chief constable said, doggedly, "if this crazy surmise is true — I say if it's true — why, then, two years… The murderer would just have run away, wouldn't he, and be beyond pursuit?"

"Thereby," said Dr. Fell, "admitting his guilt beyond all doubt, once the paper was found..Confession! That's what it would be. And wherever he went in the world, wherever he hid himself, he would always have that hellish thing hanging over him; and sooner or later they'd find him out. No, no. His only safe way, the only thing he could possibly do, was to stay here and try to lay hands on that accusation. If the very worst came, he could always deny it and try to fight it. In the meantime, there was always the dogged hope that he could destroy it before they knew." The doctor paused, and added in a lower voice:

"We know now that he has succeeded."

There were heavy footfalls on the polished floor. The noise fell so eerily into the dusky room they all looked up….

"Dr. Fell is quite right, Sir Benjamin," said the voice of the rector. "The late Mr. Starberth spoke to me before he died. He told me about the person who murdered him."

Saunders paused by the table. His large pink face was a blank. He spread out his hands and added, very slowly and simply

"God help me, gentlemen. I thought he was mad."

The silver chimes of the clock ran fluidly in the hall… "Ah," said Dr. Fell, nodding. "I rather thought he'd told you. You were supposed to pass the information on to the murderer. Did you?

"He asked me to speak to his family, but to nobody else.

I did that much, as I'd promised," said Saunders, pressing a hand over his eyes.

From the shadow of the great chair, in which she had sat down again, Dorothy said:

"That was the other thing I was afraid of. Yes, he told us.,'

"And you never mentioned it?" cried the chief constable, with abrupt shrillness. "You knew a man was murdered, and none of you-?"

There was no heartiness or smooth bumptiousness about Saunders now. He seemed to be trying to apply the rules of English sports, suddenly, to a dark and terrible thing; and he could not find their application. His hand groped.

"They tell you things," he said, with an effort, "and you don't know — you can't judge. You- “ Well, I tell you, I simply thought he was out of his head. It was incredible, more than incredible. It was something nobody would ever do, don't you see?" His baffled blue eyes moved round the group, and he tried to catch at something in the air. "It just isn't so!" he went on desperately. "Up until last night I couldn't believe it. And then suddenly I thought — what if it were true, after all? And maybe there was a murderer. And so I arranged to watch, with Dr. Fell and Mr. Rampole here, and now I know… I know. But I don't know what to do about it."

"Well, the rest of us do," snapped the chief constable. "You mean he told you the name of the person who killed him?"

"No. He only said — it was a member of his family."

Rampole's heart was beating heavily. He found himself wiping the palms of his hands on the knees of his trousers, as though he were trying to dislodge something from them. He knew now what had been on the rector's mind last night; and he remembered that puzzling, quick question, "Where is Herbert?" which Saunders had asked when Dorothy Starberth had phoned to say Martin had left the house. Saunders had explained it, rather lamely, by saying Herbert was a good man to have around in a pinch. But he explained it much better now….

And there was Dorothy, with her burnt-out eyes, and her small, wry, vacant smile, as one who says, "Oh, well!" And Dr. Fell poking at the floor with his stick. And Saunders looking into the sun as though he were trying to do a penance by staring it out of the sky. And Payne humped, drawn into his little grey shell. And Sir Benjamin looking wry-necked at them all, like a horse round the corner of its stall.

"Well," said the chief constable, in a matter-of-fact voice, "I suppose we shall have to send out the drag-net for Herbert, after all…."

Dr. Fell glanced up mildly.

"Isn't there something you've forgotten?" he enquired. "Forgotten?"

"For instance," the doctor said, thoughtfully, "you were questioning Payne a moment ago. Why not ask him what he knows about it? Somebody had to take Timothy's statement over to the vault in the Governor's Room, you know. Does he know what was in it?"

"Ah," said Sir Benjamin, jerked out of his thoughts. "Ah yes. Of course." He adjusted his pince-nez. "Well, Mr. Payne?"

Payne's fingers flicked to his chin. He coughed.

"It may be so. Personally-I think you're talking nonsense. If Starberth had done any such thing, I think he ought to have told me about it. I was the logical one to tell. Not you, Mr. Saunders. Not you. -It is perfectly true, however, that he gave me a sealed envelope, inscribed with his son's name, to take to the vault."

"That's what you meant, is it, when you said you had been there before?" asked Dr. Fell.

"It is. The whole proceeding was most irregular. But — the lawyer made gestures of discomfort, as though his cuffs were sliding down over his hands and impeding them — "but he was a dying man, and he said this envelope was vitally concerned with the ceremony the heir had to go through. Not knowing what was in the other document, I naturally could not judge. His death was sudden; there might have been things which he had left undone, and which must be done under the terms of my trust. So I accepted. I was the only one who could undertake the mission, of course; I had the keys."

"But he said no word about murder to you?"

"No. He only asked me to scribble a note testifying that he was in his right mind. He seemed so to me. The note he put into the envelope along with his manuscript, which I did not look at."

Dr. Fell brushed up the corners of his moustache, keeping on nodding in that monotonous toy-figure way.

"So this is the first time you have ever heard the suspicion mentioned?"

"It is."

"And when did you put the document in the steel box?"

"That night; the night of his death."

"Yes, yes," put in the chief constable, impatiently, "I can see all that. But we're off the subject. Hang it, look here! We've got a motive, right enough, as to why Herbert should have killed Martin. But why should Herbert have killed his uncle, at the start of the whole business? It's getting worse confused… And if he killed Martin, why did he run away? When he'd had to keep his nerve for two years, and kept it successfully, why did he cut along just when he was safe? And what's more-look here! — where was he going on his bicycle, down a back lane and with a bag packed, several hours before the murder? It doesn't look right, somehow…,"

He drew a deep breath, scowling.

"In any case, I shall have to get busy. Dr. Markley wants to hold the inquest tomorrow, and we'll let them decide… In the meantime, 1 had better have the number and description of that bicycle for a general alarm, Miss Starberth. I'm sorry. But it's necessary."

Sir Benjamin was clearly so bewildered that he wanted to break up the conference as soon as possible. You could see a whisky-and-soda in his eye even more clearly than any suspicions. They made their farewells rather awkwardly, with a tendency to bow to the wrong people. Rampole lagged behind at the door as Dorothy Starberth touched his sleeve.