‘Look here, sir, that’s going too far!’ the Sergeant exclaimed. ‘The one thing that does stand out a mile is that he fair dotes on his nephew! Why, look at the way he would stick to it the murder had been done from outside! And the way he kept on saying that his brother must have taken Stephen’s cigarette-case up to his room himself!’

‘I am looking at it,’ said Hemingway grimly. ‘Two of the silliest theories I’ve ever had to listen to. They wouldn’t have convinced a child in arms.’

‘But you can’t get away from the fact that he’s fond of Stephen!’

‘I’m not meant to get away from it,’ replied Hemingway. ‘I’ve had it thrust under my nose at every turn. The only thing I haven’t yet been privileged to see is any reason for all this overflowing affection. I’ve seen a good bit of kind Uncle Joseph and his nephew since I came down here, and I haven’t yet heard Stephen do other than treat him like dirt. That young man loathes the very sight of Joseph, and he takes no trouble to hide it. I’ve met some rude customers in my time, but anything to touch Stephen’s rudeness to Joseph I’ve never seen. But it doesn’t matter what he says: Joseph doesn’t take a bit of umbrage; he just goes on loving his dear nephew.’

‘Well, after all, he is his nephew, and when you’ve known a chap since he was a kid –’

‘Now you have gone off the rails!’ said Hemingway. ‘When Stephen was a kid, Joseph was drifting about the world creating a sensation with his masterly portrayal of Mine Host of the Garter Inn, and Snug the Joiner, and very likely a First Citizen as well, not to mention a Soothsayer, and William, a Country Fellow. He wasn’t within a couple of thousand miles of this country. If he knew that he’d got a nephew, that’s about all he did know of Stephen until he planted himself on Nathaniel a couple of years ago. And if you’re going to tell me that an affinity sprang up between them, you can spare your breath! Stephen never had a bit of time for kind Uncle Joseph, as you’ve heard over and over again from the servants. Went out of his way to be rude to him. In return for which, I’m being asked to believe that Joseph fair doted on him. Well, as far as I’m concerned, he overdid his doting. It isn’t in human nature to dote on a young chap who does nothing but hand you out offensive remarks on a plate. In fact, that’s where all kind Uncle Joseph’s highly organised plans began to come a bit unstuck. Stephen wouldn’t co-operate. However, Joseph banked on a lot of half-baked people like you thinking that he was a saint, and letting it go at that. The trouble is, I’m not half-baked, and I don’t believe in saints who carry on like Joseph, playing up to the gallery all the time, till you feel you ought to give him a round of applause.’