her. She's a clever woman.
`Do you see the deep waters we're in now? Come along, Mr Rampole,' he prompted, turning so suddenly that the American jumped; `do you see how it mixes everything up?'
Rampole hesitated. `I can see plenty of difficulties,' he returned. `That letter would have been delivered fairly early this morning. Now we've been assuming all along that the reason why Driscoll telephoned Mr Dalrye had something to do with the hat-thief and his pursuit of the hat-thief. But Driscoll never actually said it did. Dalrye asked him jokingly, if I remember it right, whether he was afraid of his hat being stolen. But all Driscoll actually answered was, 'It's not my hat I'm afraid of; it's my head.' Dalrye thought it referred to the hat affair; but did it?'
He looked bewilderedly at the chief inspector.
`I don't know,' snapped Hadley. `But he makes that appointment with Dalrye for one o'clock. The appointment in the letter is for one-thirty. He has received the letter that morning; it's scared him, and he wants Dalrye's help. Then some other person sends Dalrye on a wild-goose chase to Driscoll's flat. Driscoll arrived here, in a bad state. He is seen by Parker looking out o f the window, and later somebody touches him on the arm by Traitors' Gate.
`What went on in the merry-go-round composed of Driscoll, Mrs Bitton, Larkin, and a possible fourth party? Was it some sort of crime passionel? And if it was, can anybody on this' side of sanity inform me why Driscoll's body should be found wearing Sir William's stolen top-hat? It's the hat thief angle that's mad and impossible.'
There was a pause. Dr Fell took!he pipe out of his mouth and spoke rather plaintively.
'I say, Hadley,' he remonstrated. 'You're working yourself up into a lather. Be calm, It'll come out all right. Just keep on in your normal course.'
The chief inspector regarded him bitterly.
`Unless our questioning of the other visitors turns up. something,' he said, `we have only one other person to interview. And thank God. I need a brandy. Several brandies. But for the next few minutes, Doctor, you are going to be the chief inspector. With the next witness it becomes your case. In other words, you are going to examine Julius Arbor.?
'With pleasure,' said the doctor, `if you'll give me your chair.' He hauled himself to his feet as Hadley summoned the warder on guard and gave instructions. `It's what I should have asked to do, in any case, Hadley. Because why? Because a good part of the case depends on it. And that side of the case — shall I tell you what that side of the case hinges on, Hadley?'
`You will, anyhow. Well?'
`It hinges on a stolen manuscript,' said Dr Fell.
8. Mr Arbor's Aura
Dr Fell hung his cloak over the back of the chair: Then he squeezed himself into the chair and arranged his various ridges of stomach.
'I don't know whether I ought to let you do this,' said, Hadley. 'I don't want the, General to think we're both mad. And for the love of God try to control your deplorable sense of humour. This is serious business.' He massaged his chin uncomfortably. 'You see, General, in his own way Doctor Fell is invaluable. But he gets his ideas of police procedure from the cinema, and he is under the impression that he can act any sort of part. Whenever I let him question anybody in my presence he tries to give an imitation of me. The result sounds like a schoolmaster with homicidal mania trying to find out what fourth-former spread the axle grease on the, stairs when the headmaster was coming down to dinner
Dr Fell grunted. 'Ha,' he said. 'Your analogy, while classical, supports me rather than you. It seems to me, Hadley, that you are the one who is going about grimly determined to discover who put the barrister's wig on the cabhorse. I'm exactly the detective you want. Besides schoolboys; are much more ingenious than that. Now, an outhouse of medium weight, carefully substituted for the statue of the headmaster on the night before the public unveiling of the latter'
General Mason shook his head. 'Personally,' he observed, frowning at his cigar, 'I remember my own schoolboy holidays in France. And I have always maintained that there is nothing more edifying than the experiment of placing a red lamp over the door of, the mayor's house in a district full of sailors. Ahem!'
'Go ahead,' Hadley said, bitterly. 'Have a good time. I suppose if this case hadn't wound up in a murder you'd be stealing hats yourself, and thinking up new places to hang them!'
There was a knock at the door.
`Pardon me,' said a calm, slightly edged voice. `I've knocked several times, and there seemed to be no answer. You sent for me, I think.'
Rampole had been wondering what to expect from the enigmatic Mr Julius Arbor. He remembered Sir William's description earlier that afternoon: 'Reserved, scholarly, a trifle sardonic.' The, American had been vaguely expecting someone tall and thin and swarthy, with a hooked nose. The man who entered now, slowly drawing off his gloves and looking about with cool curiosity, was somewhat swarthy. And in every movement he, was austere. But that was all.
Mr Arbor was not above middle height, and he was inclined towards pudginess. He was perfectly dressed, too well dressed: there was a white pique edging to the front of his waistcoat, and a small pearl pin in his tie… His face was flattish, with heavy black eyebrows; and the rimless eye-glasses were such delicate shells that they seemed to blend with his eyes.
'Am I addressing Chief Inspector Hadley?' he inquired.
'Good day,' said Dr Fell, waving his hand affably. 'I'm in charge of the investigation, if that's what you mean. Sit down. I presume you're Mr Arbor.'
Arbor shifted his umbrella from the crook of one arm to hang it over the other; he moved across to the chair, inspected it for dust, and sat down.
'That's better,' said the doctor. 'Now we can begin.' From his pocket he took his battered cigar-case and extended it. 'Smoke!'
`Thank you no' the other answered. He waited until Dr Fell had replaced the disreputable, case. Then he produced an elaborately chased silver cigarette-case of his own, containing long and slender cigarettes with a cork tip. Snapping on a silver lighter, he applied it to a cigarette with nicety.
Dr Fell studied him sleepily, hands folded over his stomach. Arbor seemed to grow a trifle restless. He cleared his throat.
'I do not wish to hurry you, Inspector,' he said at length, `but I should like to point out that I have been put to considerable inconvenience this afternoon. If you will tell me what you wish to know, I shall be happy to assist you in any way I can?
Dr Fell nodded. `Got any Poe manuscripts?' he inquired, rather like a customs officer asking for contraband.
The question was so sudden that Arbor stiffened. A faint frown ruffled his swarthy forehead. 'I don't think I quite understand you. At my home in New York I certainly have a number of first editions of Edgar Allan Poe, and a few of the manuscript originals. But I scarcely think they would be of interest to you. I understand you wished to question me concerning a murder.'
`Oh, the murder!' grunted Dr Fell, with a careless wave of his hand. `Never mind that.'
`Indeed?' said Arbor. `I had supposed that the police might have some curiosity concerning it. However, that is none of my affair. I must remark, with Pliny 'Quot homines, tot sententiae'.'
`It wasn't Pliny,' said the doctor, testily. `That's an inexcusable blunder. And if you must use that deplorable platitude, try to pronounce it correctly. The 'o' in homines is short, and there's no long. nasal sound to the 'en' in sententiae But never mind that. What do you know about Poe?'
Hadley was making weird noises in the corner. Mr Arbor's flattish face had stiffened; the aura about him conveyed anger.
`I am not sure,' he said, quietly, `that I know what you are driving at or whether this is an elaborate joke. If so, kindly tell me.?
