‘It makes him out to be pretty black,’ said the Sergeant, awed.

‘Well, you don’t suppose a man who sticks a knife into his brother’s back is a gilded saint, do you?’

‘But, sir, I still can’t see it altogether your way! I’d swear the one thing Joseph dreaded was that we should bring the murder home to Stephen! I mean, he went out of his way to explain that Stephen’s rough manner didn’t mean anything, and he was always sticking up for him!’

‘Of course he was! That was his rôle, and very well he played it. But did he convince you that Stephen hadn’t had anything to do with it?’

‘No, I can’t say that he did.’

‘The point is,’ said Hemingway, ‘that the excuses he made for Stephen were so weak that they made us more suspicious than ever about him, which was all according to plan. The most damaging things I found out about Stephen I found out either from his uncle, by way of artless conversation, or through his uncle, like when it came out he’d hinted to Miss Dean that Stephen was the heir. He’d even taken care to hint the same to Mottisfont, knowing Mottisfont would spill it the instant he got the wind up on his own account.’

‘There was never anything you could actually take hold of, though.’

‘No; I told you we were up against a very clever customer.’

‘Yes, but – Look here, sir, what about the will? If he was as clever as you make out, he must have known how the money would be divided up once the will was found to be no good! And he doesn’t get the lot: he only gets half.’

‘You’re developing some very large ideas, aren’t you?’ said Hemingway. ‘If you think eighty thousand pounds is a fortune to be sneezed at, I’ll bet Joseph doesn’t! Why, he’s been sponging on his brother for the last two years, which means he’s broke, or as near to it as makes no odds! Eighty thousand pounds would be as good a reason for murder to him as one hundred and sixty thousand pounds.’

‘Well, I don’t know. I’d have expected him to have got his brother to have made the will out in his favour, somehow.’

‘Don’t you ever take to crime, my lad, because it’s easy to see you wouldn’t make a do of it! If he’d come in for the whole fortune, instead of only half, it would have looked suspicious. I don’t suppose he even thought of trying for the lot. He’s far too downy a bird.’

The Sergeant appeared to consider the matter, fixing his superior with a grave, unblinking stare. After a prolonged and ruminative silence, he said: ‘I don’t deny it sounds convincing, the way you put it, sir. And you do have a knack of spotting your man.’

‘Flair,’ corrected Hemingway coldly.

‘All right, flair. And I don’t deny that I never fancied Miss Herriard, nor Mottisfont, nor that young Roydon. But what I do say, Chief, is that there isn’t a bit of real evidence against Joseph, because you don’t know how he did it, or when he found the time to do it.’