"But he wasn't, because when I thought he'd passed out, after it was dark, I sneaked down to that big room and tried to look around after the piece off the radiator-cap. And Carl followed me. And I turned around and seen him, and he says, `What are you doing here?' And I said, `Nothing.' He said, `You're a liar,' and started to shout out that I'd killed her, so I grabbed him by the neck.. ”
"And just after I'd pitched him down the steps they almost got me. They couldn't hear anything, because there was a lot of reporters coming out of the house and motors back-firing just then. But in comes the old fat guy, and the other cop named Masters, and young Jim Bennett and that good-looking girl. And they come in one door while I was behind the door to the stairs. But I couldn't run down and out the lower door and in the house again, because there was cops and reporters there, and I thought I was caught…"
"And," growled H. M., suddenly bringing his fist down on the table, "if I'd had any sense, I'd have caught him then!"
"Caught him? But you didn't know "
"Oh, yes I did. Now we're comin' to the last of it, and here's what happened. I sat down in that chair, I opened the drawer. And I knew what that piece of silver was. And I was sittin' and thinkin'-hot engine that smoked; I saw his car that afternoon-and it began to sort of swim and twist round in my mind what might have happened. Then was when I saw him."
"Saw him?"
"His eye at that keyhole. Ain't you noticed how big that keyhole was? I was afraid I gave away that I saw him. How was I to know he'd killed Rainger, or that he could be caught then with his victim? Al! I saw was somebody behind that door. If I'd opened it and said, 'Heyl' I'd have had him in a bad position, only I didn't know it. It'd have looked suspicious, his conduct would (I thought) if I merely found him hanging about on the other side of the door, but what would it have proved? Not a blinkin' thing!
`But all of a sudden I got my plan. He was probably, I thought, in that room huntin' the bit of metal I had in my hand. Maybe, maybe not. It was worth a risk. Anyway, I held it up carefully so's he could see it; I emphasized that I was puttin' it back in the drawer. Meanwhile, I knew he couldn't get away, because Potter and the rest were down on the porch. Even if he left that door, he could hear me because of the big space under the door where the draught comes through.
"Well, I said I didn't know what the metal was. But I said I'd put it back in the drawer and take it up to London tomorrow for a silversmith to tell me. Son, it dawned blazin' in the old man's mind that that little triangle was the one piece of evidence I could use against him-but not unless I could bring it home to him by his own admission. He could have said it came off anybody's radiator cap. But, if I could maneuver him into stealin' that piece of silver out of the drawer; so he had it on his person when I charged him with it… how was he goin' to deny that?"
Katharine sat up straight.
"Then the whole business," she said, "wasn't directed at us? You didn't need to reproduce that business on the stairs?"
H. M. grinned. "You got it, my dear. Exactly. All I needed was an excuse to get everybody into that room, shove 'em where their attention would be occupied, emphasize to Emery that their attention would be occupied, and pretend to let him into my scheme. He had to fall for it, or it wouldn't work. And, with Rainger's body at the foot of those stairs, he'd figure that in the confusion nobody would see him. That was what I wanted. After one attempt to find that silver, he wouldn't try another until he was certain he could do it safely. And I pretended to play straight into his hands.
"I outlined a part of my plot while he was listenin' behind the door; pretended I thought the silver was of no importance; and when he'd got some idea of my scheme I deliberately opened the window and yelled to Potter to come upstairs — so he could escape safely.
"He went down, through the side-door, and up through the house again. Beryl Symonds dropped in on him immediately…. but, Lord, wasn't the man wild when Masters walked into that room! Notice his expression, son? Notice how he acted then? Actually, I'd sent you and Masters down to see whether Emery was there; not Rainger. He burst out, I understand, with some sort of wild story about somebody tappin' at his door. That was obviously hogwash, because he said the gallery was dark; and yet Masters and I had turned on the lights when we came up. He was thinkin' about himself turnin' out the lights when he went down to King Charles's Room, and that gave him away. He called on the girl to support him, knowin' perfectly well she was so hysterical she would have agreed to anything.
"I could have cut my own throat," said H. M. savagely, "when I found Rainger's body. If I'd had sense enough to challenge him then! But I thought, by God, I will get him now. So I came back and deliberately pretended to take him into my scheme. It destroyed his last suspicion. He walked into the trap as neat as you please. Masters — I'd told him Masters was to be downstairs. - Masters was actually in the gallery behind, and saw him sneak over and take the silver from the table-drawer when the lights were out. I knew I had him at any time I wanted him. So I called an end to my experiment, and…"
H. M. made a dull gesture. He stared at the blue-bound sheets and put them away in the desk. The drawer closed with a snap.
"That's all," he said.
For a long time nobody spoke. The honking of traffic floated up in a lazy afternoon. Then H. M. hauled himself to his feet. He waddled over to the iron safe and took out of it a bottle, a syphon, and glasses. His big slovenly bulk showed against the window, high above the green Embankment, the glittering river, and the mighty curve of London.
"So now," said H. M., "you can forget it. You've had some nasty times and hours with that family of yours, ma'am; but you're free now, and your husband ain't a half bad feller. If ever you need the old man to break any more curses, sing out. In the meantime…"
"In the meantime?"
H. M. peered at the glasses. He looked round at the ancient room with its stuffings of crazy books and crooked pictures; of dust and the trophies of one man's deadly brain. He glanced down at the scattered lead soldiers on one table where a problem of human beings was being worked out..
"Oh, I dunno," he said, and made a vague gesture. "I'll go on, I suppose. Sittin' and thinkin'…"