“Was he able to give you a description of the man in the motorcar?”

“A hazy one at best. The reflection from the headlamps cast shadows. Besides, Mickelson was busy trying to decide how you’d worked it out about the garrote when he hadn’t.”

The question had to be asked. “Does Mickelson believe I lured him into a trap?”

“My impression was, he is still of two minds about that. His accident, after all, brought you back into the case.”

“Yes, it did.” Rutledge gave it some thought as they walked along the road above the net shops.

Norman hesitated. “The man in the motorcar told Mickelson his name was Daniel Pierce and that you’d asked him to handle this because his own brother was among the dead. Mickelson had no reason to doubt what he was told. The elder Pierce is an upstanding member of the community, after all.”

“And Mickelson wasn’t intended to live long enough to tell us that. Have you spoken to Tyrell Pierce about this?”

“Not yet. I wanted to hear what you had to say before going to him. You still maintain that this man you’re chasing is not Pierce’s son. I went to The White Swans. Whoever had stayed there registered as Pierce. And the description could fit him, with a little stretch of the imagination. He was never the man his brother was, to look at. It was as if Anthony’s features had been passed on to his brother, only a little blurred, a little less distinctive.”

And Summers had known that. He’d also known that Daniel Pierce hadn’t returned to Sussex for two years. It was a safe enough gamble.

Rutledge related what had transpired in Dover, and Inspector Norman whistled.

“Any chance of bringing him back from France?”

“On what evidence?” Rutledge asked. “Whatever I can prove, it isn’t strong enough to convince the French police.”

“Damn.” Norman glanced up at the headland where Theo Hartle had been found and said, “You make a good case for Summers. The question remains, what do we do about the inquests into these deaths? Now that we know Inspector Mickelson will survive, do we wait until he’s well enough to present his case, or do we look to you?”

“Adjourn them again if you have to. But keep your eye on Eastfield. That’s where our killer will turn up, as soon as he returns to England. Mark my words.” They turned back toward the police station.

Rutledge stood there on the street for a moment, after Inspector Norman had gone inside, debating what to do. Waiting in Eastfield would accomplish nothing. The best course open to him was to return to the Yard and make certain that the watch on the ports was kept in place as long as need be.

When he arrived in London, Rutledge found another letter from Chief Inspector Cummins waiting for him.