conceived a design which satisfied all the demands of his sensation-loving soul…. He was going to steal Sir William Bitton's hat and nail it with a crossbow bolt to the door of Number 10 Downing Street.'
Hadley was more than shocked. He was genuinely outraged. For a moment he could only splutter; and Dr Fell contemplated him with amiable mockery.
`Look here.' The doctor opened Driscoll's notebook. `See how he's musing about, this scheme. He hasn't quite worked it out yet. All he has is the idea of fastening Sir William's hat with this warlike instrument in some public place. So he writes, inquiringly: 'Best place? Tower? But, of course, that won't do; it's much too easy, and a crossbow bolt in the Tower would be as conspicuous as a small bit of coal at Newcastle. However, he's got to have his properties first, and writes, 'Track down hat,' which is obvious. Then he thinks about Trafalgar Square again, as he inevitably must. But that won't do, because he certainly can't drive his bolt into the stone of the Nelson monument. So he writes, 'Unfortunate Trafalgar, can't transfix!' But it wasn't so unfortunate, for his burst of inspiration comes and you note the exclamation points to denote it. He's got it now. He notes down Number 10 home of the Prime Minister. The next, words you can easily see. Is the door made of wood? If it's steel-bound, or something of the sort, the scheme won't work; he doesn't know. He must find out. Is there a hedge, or anything that will screen him from observation while he does it? Are there guards about, as there are likely to be? He doesn't know this, either. It's a long chance, and a risky one; but he's jubilant about the possibility, and he means to find out.'
Dr Fell put down the notebook.
'Thus,' he said, 'I outline to you what I, like Driscoll, intend to call symbolically the Affair of the Rubber Mouse.
Let's see what came of it. You do see, don't you Hadley?' Again the chief inspector was pacing the room.
'I suppose I do,' he snapped. 'He waited for Sir William's car in Berkeley Street; let's see, that was Saturday night?' `Saturday night,' affirmed the doctor. 'He was still youthful and hopeful and all the rest of it. And, incidentally, here's another ingenious feature of the scheme. In most cases there wasn't an enormous amount of risk. He stole the hats of the dignified people who wouldn't make a row about it. They certainly wouldn't report the theft to the police, to begin with. And if he were in a tight spot, it's unlikely the victim would give serious chase. That's the cunning feature. A man like Sir William would run half-way across London in pursuit of a man who'd picked his pocket of half-a crown. It would be outraged justice. But he wouldn't run a step, for fear of looking a fool, after a man who stole a two guinea hat…. Well, reconstruct, Hadley.'
'H'm. He waited for Sir William's car in Berkeley Street. Any sort of telephone call to the house, which he could properly have made in his own character, would have got him the information he wanted where, Bitton was that night, and the rest of it. And let's see. Bitton said, I think, that the chauffeur slowed down to let a blind man with some pencils get across the street
`Any sort of vendor,' agreed the doctor, 'would have crossed the street for a shilling. And Driscoll got the hat. He bargained on it that Bitton wouldn't give chase. He was right. Still, everything was fine and fair, until… '
He peered up inquiringly at Hadley.
`Until Sunday night,' Hadley said, slowly. 'Then everything; came down on him at once when he called at the house.'
'We're on debatable ground now. But it's not a question of great importance. H'mf. It's unlikely he discovered until Sunday night that he'd unwittingly pinched the manuscript,' said Dr Fell. 'You don't pay much attention to paper inside a hatband.
'But here's the point. On Sunday evening they told him about the theft of the manuscript. Whether he suspected something then I don't know. Undoubtedly he knew all about the manuscript, from Bitton's hints beforehand. But the other affair crashed down on him. Laura Bitton and her husband were back; Laura must have conveyed some hint of the state of affairs; there was a whispered row; Driscoll went wildly out of the house before Laura could make an appointment with him. Otherwise she would have made her appointment then, and not bothered to write.'
`Up again, down again,' muttered Hadley. `He was afraid of the scandal, of being cut off by his uncle…'
Dr Fell nodded sombrely.
`And a million other fancies that would come into a, head like his. Mr Dalrye said this flat was full of his presence,' the doctor said suddenly, in a louder voice. `What must it have been like when he came home here and discovered, with one of the sickest feelings of horror he ever had, that he'd unintentionally stolen his uncle's most cherished possession? How could he explain it? Here was his uncle raving, and here he was with the manuscript how had it got into the hat to begin with? Not by any stretch of madness could he have imagined his uncle deliberately putting that fragile thing into a hat of his own accord, and wearing it about the streets. And, worst of all, Driscoll wasn't supposed to know about the manuscript in the first place!’
`Imagine that wild, red-headed kid running about here like a bat trying to get out! A moment before, he'd been the reckless adventurer. Now he was threatened with a hellish scandal, with the price of swaggering, and worst of all with his ugly-tempered uncle.'
'If he had been sensible,' the chief inspector growled, `he'd have gone to his uncle, and…' Would- he?' Dr Fell frowned. 'I wonder if even a sensible person would have done that: at least, with Sir William Bitton. What could Driscoll say? 'Oh, I say, uncle, I'm sorry. Here's your Poe manuscript. I pinched it bymistake at the same time I pinched your hat' Can you imagine the result? Driscoll wasn't supposed to know about the manuscript; nobody was. Bitton imagined he was being very sly and clever, when he was advertising its presence all the time. To begin with, he wouldn't have believed Driscoll. What would you think of somebody who walked in and said, 'By, the way, Hadley, you know that thousand-pound bank-note you've been hiding away from everybody in your
drawer upstairs? Well, when I was stealing your umbrella last night, I accidentally discovered the bank-note hanging by a string from the handle of the umbrella., Odd, what?' No, my boy. You'd scarcely have been in a receptive mood. And if, to cap the business your brother later came in and observed, 'Yes, Hadley, and the curious thing is that I discovered in that chap's flat not only your umbrella and. your thousand pound note, but also my wife, I venture to suggest, old man, that you would have thought your friend's conduct at least a trifle eccentric:
Dr Fell snorted.
`Perhaps that's what the sensible man would, have done. But Driscoll wasn't sensible. Call him anything else you like, but not a clear thinker.'
Dr Fell bent forward and prodded the rubber mouse with his forefinger. It ran round in a circle on the table and bounced off.
`For the Lord's sake,' cried the exasperated chief inspector, 'let that mouse alone and get on with it! So he wrestled 'with- this thing all night, and in the morning he telephoned Mr Dalrye here and determined to tell him everything?'
'Exactly.'
Dalrye, who had been sitting quietly all through this, turned a puzzled face.
`Yes, but there's another thing,' he observed. `I say, Doctor, why didn't he come to me straight. away? If he were as upset as all that, he would have come down to the Tower immediately, wouldn't he?'
`No,' said the doctor. `And I shall now expound to you, children, why. It is the point which confirmed my suspicions of the whole affair. I mean the second attack on Sir William Bitton.'
`Good Lord, yes…!'' Hadley stopped his pacing. `If Driscoll did all this, why did he steal a second hat from Bitton? That wasn't precisely the way to get him out of the scrape, was it?'
`No. But it was a piece of remarkably quick thinking in an emergency.'
`Maybe it was,' the chief inspector admitted, gloomily. `But it would seem to me somewhat to complicate matters. He'd have another explanation to add to his uncle when he'd finished the ones. you were outlining a; minute ago.'
`Be quiet and let me talk. He was going to get Mr Dalrye's help, but, before he did, he intended to make one last effort to help himself. You see, I rather wondered why he had definitely, made the appointment at the Tower for one o'clock when he could easily have gone down there in the morning. And, having made the appointment,' he didn't appear, until nearly twenty minutes past one! What held him up? If anything, you would have, expected him to be ahead of time… What he was going to do was make an attempt to return the manuscript, unknown to his uncle.
