'Possibly.' Sinclair shrugged. 'But Madden has a different theory. I'll tell you what he believes in a moment. May I continue, sir?'
'Please do.'
'We can't be sure exactly when the attack occurred, except that it must have been after a quarter past five, which was when Mr William Merrick and his family left by car for Chichester. That time's been fixed by the gardener, who was here. Apparently Merrick had had trouble getting the car started and had all but decided to spend the night here — they were going away on holiday — but old Mrs Merrick wanted them out of the house for some reason. She'd been on about it all day.' Sinclair shook his head wearily. "i can't make that out, sir. But thank God they left.'
'Amen!' Bennett murmured.
'We returned ourselves to Stonehill with our prisoner shortly before seven o'clock. Hobday, the mechanic, went out to Croft Manor at about eight. I haven't had the pathologist's report yet on time of death so again I can only speculate. We know Pike attacked Melling Lodge and the farm at Bentham around sundown. I'm assuming he broke in here soon after dark and was gone from the house before we got back to the village. In any case, the request I made to various county authorities to stop and question motorcyclists has had no result. I ordered it suspended this morning. I'm afraid he had ample time to get well away before we were alerted.'
Bennett was becoming increasingly concerned. Listening to Sinclair's dead voice he realized that the man was deeply depressed.
'What else…?' The chief inspector's gaze wandered about the room. 'Madden's team has found a collection of cigarette stubs — all Three Castles — on a hill close by. It's a good vantage point, apparently. We'll have them tested. And we may have another footprint to compare with the cast taken at Melling Lodge. The technicians of the photographic department have lifted some marks off the stone floor in the hall. They use oblique lighting — it's a new development.' He paused deliberately. 'And then there's the matter of the dog.
The family had one. It was poisoned a week ago. I had the remains dug up this morning. Ransom will examine them. The Sussex force offered us their own pathologist, but I wanted Ransom again.'
'Quite right, Chief Inspector.' Bennett was watching him closely.
'I could have asked, you know, sir.' Sinclair's eye met his superior's. 'It slipped my mind, but that's no excuse.'
'Asked what?'
'When I got down here yesterday morning, I could have inquired as to whether any dogs in the district had been poisoned lately. The village bobby knew all about it.' The chief inspector's face showed pain. 'In fact, I wonder now if I haven't been wrong all along in withholding that piece of information from the public'
'And I tell you you've no cause to blame yourself on either count.' Bennett spoke more harshly than he meant. 'If you broadcast that sort of warning we'll have the police being summoned every time a dog throws up. And as for the other, you came here believing you were about to arrest Pike. To arrest him or see him shot down. That's what was on your mind.'
'True, sir.' Sinclair nodded assent. 'But I should have inquired just the same.'
Bennett looked away. 'Have you spoken to William Merrick?' he asked.
'I have. We managed to get in touch with the people they were staying overnight with in Chichester and he came back at once. He's staying with friends nearby. We had a meeting in the early hours of this morning.'
'What did he have to say?'
'A great deal,' Sinclair replied heavily. 'He's bitterly angry, and I can see why. He wanted to know how it was possible for his mother and two members of his household to be murdered in this fashion when there were upwards of a score of policemen in the vicinity.
A question to which even the Delphic oracle might feel pressed to provide an answer,' he added, with a flicker of his old spirit.
Bennett had heard enough. 'Let me say something.'
He stood up and began to pace about the room. 'Quite apart from the tragedy, this is an appalling piece of misfortune. Because of the incident of that man falling into the pit, you've been cruelly misled. But had he not done so your position would be no better. Worse, in fact. What happened here would have happened just the same' — he gestured with his hand — 'and you would have learned about it in London and had to start from scratch. Instead, you were here — on the spot. Make the most of that, Chief Inspector.'
Sinclair regarded him in silence for a moment or two. Then he nodded. 'Thank you, sir. I mean to,' he said quietly.
'One further point. I had a brief conversation with the assistant commissioner before coming down this morning. I put it to him that the theory we'd heard advanced that the perpetrator of these crimes was no more than a thief with a bent for violence was pitifully wide of the mark. It's quite clear he's a criminal psychopath, just as you have indicated from the start.
Had your views encountered less opposition, I suggested, this investigation might have been concluded by now and at least one tragedy averted. Sir George did not disagree. This is your case, Chief Inspector.
Though whether you'll thank me for telling you that…'
Bennett raised an eyebrow, and Sinclair shrugged.
'You mentioned earlier that Madden had a theory about why the McConnell woman's body was damaged in that way. I'd like to hear it.' The deputy was standing by the window, looking out. 'But I see he's coming now, so perhaps we should wait.'
Sinclair rose from his chair and joined him. Emerging from the yew alley, dark-jowled and haggard, the tall inspector came striding through the mist like the very spectre of Death.
Bennett spoke. "I was mistaken about him. You picked the right man for this inquiry.'
A minute later there was a knock on the door and Madden entered. 'Good morning, sir,' he said to Bennett. He turned to Sinclair. 'We've found the dugout. It's about two miles off. There's been no attempt to fill it in. He left a few items behind — a tin of stew, an empty rum jar. I've had them collected for examination.'
'Sit down, John.' The chief inspector pointed to a chair. Madden obeyed.
'It's like the one we found at Highfield,' he went on. 'Made with care and an eye for detail. Looking at the Ordnance map, I'd say it's no more than a couple of miles from the pit we found yesterday. That was due south of Stonehill. The dugout's more to the west.'
'My God!' Bennett shook his head in disbelief. 'You might almost have stumbled on him.'
Sinclair returned to his chair and sat down.
"I told Mr Bennett you had a theory why Annie McConnell's body was savaged,' he said to Madden.
'He'd like to hear it from you.'
Madden turned to the deputy. "I believe it resulted from rage, sir. Fury. The woman Pike came for was the younger Mrs Merrick. When he found she wasn't in the house he must have gone berserk. Miss McConnell was probably trying to use the telephone when he came back downstairs. But even if that angered him, killing her would have been a simple matter. What he did to the body suggests to me some much stronger emotion at work.'
Bennett nodded, understanding.
Sinclair spoke. 'I'm forced to agree with the inspector,' he said. 'Though I don't care for the implication it carries.'
'Implication?'
'It seems that Pike takes many weeks to prepare for these attacks. By the time he's ready he must be near boiling point. Only on this occasion he was frustrated.
I can't pretend to understand his state of mind. But I tremble at the thought of it.' *He was primed to attack, you mean, and that won't have changed?' Bennett looked grim.
'He could be ready to strike at any time,' the chief inspector agreed. 'We must find him. And soon.'
When Pike came into the kitchen on Tuesday morning he found Ethel Bridgewater already there.
She was sitting with a cup of tea on the table in front of her reading the newspaper, which, in Mrs Aylward's absence, she had not had to take upstairs that day.