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Page 114
"My God!" I groaned aloud, "I see it all. I see it all."
CHAPTER XXVIII
MY THEORY OF THE CRIME
The afternoon was well advanced before Paul Harley returned.
So deep was my conviction that I had hit upon the truth, and so well
did my theory stand every test which I could apply to it, that I felt
disinclined for conversation with any one concerned in the tragedy
until I should have submitted the matter to the keen analysis of
Harley. Upon the sorrow of Madame de St�mer I naturally did not
intrude, nor did I seek to learn if she had carried out her project of
looking upon the dead man.
About mid-day the body was removed, after which an oppressive and
awesome stillness seemed to descend upon Cray's Folly.
Inspector Aylesbury had not returned from his investigations at the
Guest House, and learning that Miss Beverley was remaining with Madame
de St�mer, I declined to face the ordeal of a solitary luncheon in the
dining room, and merely ate a few sandwiches, walking over to the
Lavender Arms for a glass of Mrs. Wootton's excellent ale.
Here I found the bar-parlour full of local customers, and although a
heated discussion was in progress as I opened the door, silence fell
upon my appearance. Mrs. Wootton greeted me sadly.
"Ah, sir," she said, as she placed a mug before me; "of course you've
heard?"
"I have, madam," I replied, perceiving that she did not know me to be a
guest at Cray's Folly.
"Well, well!" She shook her head. "It had to come, with all these
foreign folk about."
She retired to some sanctum at the rear of the bar, and I drank my beer
amid one of those silences which sometimes descend upon such a
gathering when a stranger appears in its midst. Not until I moved to
depart was this silence broken, then:
"Ah, well," said an old fellow, evidently a farm-hand, "we know now why
he was priming of hisself with the drink, we do."
"Aye!" came a growling chorus.
I came out of the Lavender Arms full of a knowledge that so far as Mid-
Hatton was concerned, Colin Camber was already found guilty.
I had hoped to see something of Val Beverley on my return, but she
remained closeted with Madame de St�mer, and I was left in loneliness
to pursue my own reflections, and to perfect that theory which had
presented itself to my mind.
In Harley's absence I had taken it upon myself to give an order to
Pedro to the effect that no reporters were to be admitted; and in this
I had done well. So quickly does evil news fly that, between mid-day
and the hour of Harley's return, no fewer than five reporters, I
believe, presented themselves at Cray's Folly. Some of the more
persistent continued to haunt the neighbourhood, and I had withdrawn to
the deserted library, in order to avoid observation, when I heard a car
draw up in the courtyard, and a moment later heard Harley asking for
me.
I hurried out to meet him, and as I appeared at the door of the
library:
"Hullo, Knox," he called, running up the steps. "Any developments?"
"No actual development?" I replied, "except that several members of the
Press have been here."
"You told them nothing?" he asked, eagerly.
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