When he
shot Sir Horace Fewbanks he put his hand into his pocket for a
handkerchief to wipe his forehead or his hands--it was a hot night, and I
take it that a man who has killed another doesn't feel as cool as a
cucumber. While stooping over his victim with the handkerchief still in
his hand, the dying man made a convulsive movement and caught hold of a
corner of the handkerchief, which was torn off." Inspector Chippenfield
looked across at his subordinate with a smile of triumphant superiority.
"Yes," said Rolfe meditatively. "There is nothing wrong about that as far
as I can see. But I would like to know for certain how it got there."
Inspector Chippenfield was satisfied with his subordinate's testimony to
his perspicacity.
"That is all right, Rolfe," he said in a tone of kindly banter. "But
don't make the mistake of regarding your idle curiosity as a virtue.
After the trial, if you are still curious on the point, I have no
doubt Birchill will tell you. He is sure to make a confession before
he is hanged."
But it was more a spirit of idle curiosity than anything else that
brought Rolfe to Crewe's chambers in Holborn an hour later.
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