`Tell them to bring him to Bitton's.'
'To Bitton's? But, good God, man! You don't want, `I have rather a fancy,' said the doctor, `to see how he acts there. Let poor Marks stay in the flat and direct them over when they get here.'
It had been arranged that way. Hadley's Daimler flashed through the quiet streets, and the hands of the illuminated clock on the dashboard pointed to nearly one o'clock as they reached Berkeley Square.
When they went up the shallow steps of the Bitton house, Hadley paused with his hand on the bell.
`I know only two quotations,' he said, quietly, `but I'm going to tell one of them now. Do you know what it is?'
Dr Fell dropped the ferrule of his cane on the step with a hollow shock which had its echo.
''It must be confessed,' ' he repeated, ''It will be confessed; there is no refuge from confession but suicide, and suicide is confession.''
Hadley rang the bell.
There was no sign of confusion in the house when the heavy door was opened. All the blinds had been drawn and the curtains closed, but every light was on. It was the absolute hush which was sinister. An old, grave-faced man ushered them into a massive blue entrance hall with, a crystal chandelier.
`Chief Inspector Hadley, sir?' the old man asked. `I am Hobbes, sir; I telephoned you. Shall I take you upstairs?' He hesitated as Hadley nodded. `Under such circumstances, sir, I have always heard that it is customary to summon a doctor. But Mr Bitton was obviously dead, and unless you wish it..
`It will not be necessary for the moment. Is Sir William up yet?'
'I have not been able to rouse him, sir.'
`Where is Mrs Bitton?'
`In her room, sir. This way, if you please.'
The butler took them up a heavily carpeted stair, with bronze figures in the niches, and along a passage at the top. It was stuffy up here; and Rampole could distinctly smell the stale reek of cordite.
A bright light streamed out against the gloom of this upper hall At the door Hobbes stood aside for them to enter.
Here the odour of burnt powder: was stronger, but nothing seemed disturbed. It was a high room, with cornices and another long chandelier, severely furnished against a background of dull brown and yellow-threaded walls.
Lester Bitton lay sideways across the bed; they could see his feet from the door. Closer, they could see that he was fully dressed. The bullet had gone through the right temple and emerged about an inch above the left ear; following Hadley's glance, Rampole could discern the splintered place where it had lodged in the ceiling. The dead man's face was curiously peaceful, and there was very little blood. His outflung right hand, turned under at the wrist, held a Webley-Scott service automatic of the standard forty-five calibre army pattern.
Hadley did not immediately examine him. He spoke in a low voice to Hobbes.
`I think you told me you were in your pantry and heard the shot. You ran up here immediately, and found him just as he is. Did anybody else hear it?'
`Mrs Bitton, sir. She came in a moment later.'
'Where is Mrs Bitton's room?'
Hobbes indicated a door near the fireplace `A dressing room, sir, which communicates with her own room.'
What did Mrs Bitton do?'
`She- stood looking at him for a long time, and suggested that I wake Sir William. Then she returned to her room.'
Hadley went over to the writing-table, looked at the chair beside it, and turned. `Mr Bitton was out this evening. He must have returned here about eleven o'clock. Did you see him?'
`Yes, sir. He returned just before eleven, and went directly to the library. He asked me to bring him a cup of cocoa, and when I brought it he was sitting in front of the library fire. When I passed by, the door of the library, about an hour later, I went in and asked him if he wished anything more., He was still sitting in the same chair. When I spoke he said, 'No, nothing more.' Then he rose and walked past me and up the stairs..: For the first time Hobbes faltered, a trifle the man's self-control was amazing. `That was the last I saw of him, sir, before.. before this.’
`How long afterwards did you hear the shot?'
`I am not positive, sir. Not more than five minutes, I should say, and probably less.'
`Did his manner seem strange?'
A slight pause before the answer. `I am afraid so, sir. Mr Bitton has not been exactly himself for the past month. But there was nothing… well, sir, excited about him.'
Hadley glanced down at the floor. The carpet was of so thick and smooth a nap that it was almost possible to trace the path a man had taken, as though by footprints. They were standing near the door, and as Rampole followed the chief inspector's glance he could see with terrible clarity what Lester Bitton must have done. For Lester Bitton was a heavy and gigantic man; his footfalls were there where a lighter person's might not have been visible. First he had gone to the fireplace. Then he had walked to the reading-table facing the fireplace, the open drawer telling where the gun had come from. From there he had gone to the bureau, whose mirror was now tilted so that a tall man could look at himself clearly. The impress of his feet, together, — was heavy there; he must have stood for some time. Lastly he had walked straight to the bed, stood with his back to it so that he should fall there, and raised the automatic.
`The gun is his own'?' Hadley asked.
`Yes, sir. He kept it in that table drawer.'
Softly Hadley punched his fist into his palm, softly and steadily as lie looked about.
`I want you to give me a complete account of everything Mr Bitton did to-day, so far as you know.'
Hobbes's hands plucked at the sides of his trousers.
`Yes, sir. I observed him, sir, because I was a trifle concerned about his welfare. He left the house this morning at about half past ten, sir, and returned at noon. I believe he had been to Mr Philip`s flat'
`Was he carrying anything when he returned?'
`I believe he had a package of some sort, wrapped in brown paper. He left the house again early, in the afternoon. I know that he ate no lunch, sir. I reminded him of this when he returned, and he said he merely wanted a cup of cocoa sent to his room. He left before the unfortunate occurrence at Sir William's car; the thief, sir.'
`He left for the City?'
`N-no, sir, I believe not. As he was leaving, Sir William, who intended to go to the City himself later, offered him a lift in the car. Major Bitton said he did not intend to go to his office. He.. he mentioned that he was going for a walk.'
`What was his manner then; nervous, upset…?'
'Well, sir, say restless.'
`When did he return?'
`I'm afraid I don't remember, sir. Mrs Bitton had brought back the horrible news about Mr Philip, and… ' Hobbes shook his head. He was biting at his lips now, trying to keep calm.
`That's all, thank you. I suggest that you make another effort to wake Sir William before you go.'
Hobbes bowed and closed the door behind him as he went out.
'I think,' Hadley said, turning to his companions, `you two had better go downstairs. I've got to make an examination.. just in case… and I warn you it won't be pretty. There's no good you can do. I want you to be there for Arbor when he arrives.'
Dr Fell grunted. He went over, bent across the body, and held his eyeglasses on while he had a brief look at it. Then he signalled to Rampole and waddled towards the door without a word.
In silence they descended the stairs. Rampole thought he heard behind them somewhere the click of a closing latch. He thought he saw a figure somewhere in the upper hall but his thoughts were so warped with stealth and murder, and the ghostliness of this ancient house, that he paid scant attention.
He followed Dr Fell down the lower hallway until they reached the library. It was another high room at the rear, done in white. Three walls, even around the window spaces, were built entirely of books; the white-painted lines of the shelves showed up startlingly against the dark old volumes. The fourth wall was cream-panelled, with a
