“Hopkins?” he repeated, as if he’d never heard the name before. “I don’t know enough about the facts of the case to make a judgment.”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t kept up with events in Eastfield. Especially after one of the victims died right here in Hastings. You know as much about the murders as London does.”

Inspector Norman flushed slightly, caught in a lie and handed an uncomfortable truth.

Rutledge went on. “I’d have done the same in your place. I’d consider one death on my patch reason enough.”

He sidestepped the question. “There is the fact that the killing stopped after Hopkins was taken into custody.”

“Hardly stopped. If you count Inspector Mickelson. And I do. He got in the way, if you think about it. Whoever has been killing these men could well have been afraid that Mickelson was about to change his mind. Blaming Hopkins would have been very convenient if our murderer had finished whatever it is that he’d started.” Rutledge didn’t believe it was finished. But he wasn’t about to weaken his own arguments by adding that.

“Mickelson wasn’t garroted. What’s more, why didn’t our murderer kill you? You thwarted him by locking up those village men—” He broke off. It was an admission that he’d kept up with the inquiry.

Rutledge ignored the opening. At the moment, he wanted Norman on his side. “I hadn’t made an arrest. I was useful as long as I didn’t—my very presence promoted fear of more deaths, and he got to Hartle. But Mickelson did take Hopkins into custody, and if that’s the wrong man in your cell, then we haven’t finished with these murders. What we don’t know—unless Mickelson took Constable Walker into his confidence—is whether he stumbled on something that either clears Hopkins or brings up serious doubt about his guilt. Either way, Mickelson had to be stopped before he reported that to the Yard. If the killer had used the garrote, we’d have had proof we’d gotten the wrong man. Don’t you see?”

“There were no discs in Mickelson’s mouth.”

And that was interesting.

“I’m not surprised,” Rutledge told him, considering the comment. “It means he wasn’t one of the chosen.”

“Or you didn’t have any of them to put there.”

“True.” He didn’t argue. After a moment he went on, “I have witnesses, you know, that I never left Kent until this morning. Very reliable ones, in fact. Someone should have asked about that before having me stopped and brought here. It smacks of leaping to conclusions.”

“Unless your witnesses were sleeping in the same room with you, it doesn’t preclude leaving in the middle of the night. You could have slipped out and back in again, with no one the wiser,” Inspector Norman countered.