“Assume that state of affairs—I had no certain knowledge then—and things begin to fall into their places. I’ve given you my notion of why Billingford was needed. What about the other three?
“The claimant was obviously needed to represent Derek Fordingbridge; and he’d been cast for the part on two grounds. First, his face was so much damaged that no one could swear to his original appearance. He might quite well have been Derek or anyone else, so far as that went. Then the loss of his fingers made him invaluable also, because he couldn’t be expected to write like the real Derek nowadays, with a mutilated hand. All that was wanted in addition was a good memory to cram up the immense amount of facts that they needed in order to meet questioning.
“Then there was Staveley. What was he doing in the affair? Well, obviously, he had a lot of information about the Foxhills people which he must have picked up while he stayed there with the real Derek on leave, and also some more facts which he must have learned from Mrs. Fleetwood from time to time.
“And, finally, there was the fourth man. I suspected that he might turn out to be a second information-mine; and when I heard the report you gave me, inspector, about the fishermen and Sapcote having recognised him as an ex-valet at Foxhills, I felt I was getting on to fairly sure ground.
“Well, there were four of them to share in the loot if they pulled it off. But a third’s better than a quarter-share any day. If they had pumped Staveley dry of his information, and had got notes of it all on that card-index, what further need had they for friend Nicholas? None whatever.
“And suppose they could involve the Fleetwoods in a murder case and get them hanged, wouldn’t that remove one possible set of objectors to the claimant dropping into the funds? So I didn’t exclude the possibility that they knew—although they denied it—that Staveley was going to meet Mrs. Fleetwood at Neptune’s Seat that night. When I say ‘they,’ I really mean the faceless fellow and Aird.
“There was a further long shot possible. I’m not sure if it really entered into their plans; but I give it you for what it’s worth. Suppose they suggested a walk along the sands to Billingford that evening, and arranged matters so that he would reach the rock just after the murder had been committed and they had cleared out. Wouldn’t that have been a tight corner for Master Billingford? With any luck he might have been hung for the murder, since he’d no evidence but his own to rely on to prove he wasn’t on the spot when the shot was fired. And then there would be only two of them, instead of four, to share out the loot if they got it.
“You see now how I was beginning to look at the affair. But I was considerably worried by the woman with the neat shoe. Her part in the business would have to be cleared up eventually; but for the moment I had to put it aside.
“And then our friends made their second blunder—trying to prove too much, as usual. Friend Cargill came on the scene, innocently going down to bathe. He sat down on the groyne and proceeded to dig up a .38 cartridge-case, which he presented to me like an honest fellow anxious only to help the police. Well, all three of us had been over that particular bit of sand and had seen no cartridge-case before he arrived on the scene. Also, as I pointed out to you, squire, an automatic ejects its cartridge-case sharply and jerks it well behind you, especially on hard sand where the thing can jump along. It was obvious that no one could fire a shot from Fleetwood’s position at the groyne and leave his ejected shell lying close under the groyne, where Cargill assured me he’d kicked it up. So naturally I began to look at Mr. Cargill with more than common interest; and, as you saw yourselves, he’s got a build rather like the claimant’s, so I wondered if they were related.
“Then our friend Cargill told us his yarn about meeting Derek Fordingbridge in the war; and off he went to meet his dear old friend. And later on he volunteered eagerly that he’d had a talk with the dear old fellow. By that time I was more than a bit suspicious of the dear old friend; and naturally some of that suspicion spilled over on to Cargill. If the claimant was an impostor, then the man who recognised him was a liar; and, as I had no use for aimless liars in a case of this sort, I inferred that Master Cargill was one of the gang, posted at the hotel for intelligence purposes—to keep an eye on the Fordingbridge group. And that cleared up one of the main difficulties I’d had—namely, how the murderer had known to use a .38 automatic so as to match the Fleetwood pistol. Of course, if you assume that Cargill had taken the opportunity of rummaging in Fleetwood’s room, or had drawn him into talk about pistols, they would be sure of their ground on that point. That had been a troublesome point to me; for I didn’t like to stretch coincidence to the extent of assuming it was mere accident that made the Fleetwood pistol and the bullet in the body both of the same calibre.
“It remained to check Billingford’s story as far as possible, and you know how the runnel helped us
