Tower?'
`She didn't notice. She turned away and walked in the roadway — where, you remember, Mrs Larkin saw her, walking with her back to the Bloody Tower…. '
'Ah!'
`She didn't conceal anything,' Hadley said dully. `I thought, when I spoke to her, that I was talking to an automaton — a dead person, or something of the sort. Driscoll went under the arch. It was all over in a moment: Bitton's hand over his mouth, a wrench and a blow, and Driscoll died without a sound. And when Mrs Bitton walked through the arch a, few seconds later, her husband was holding against the wall the dead body of her lover. When they had gone, he took off Driscoll's cap, opened the top-hat — it was an opera-hat, you know, and collapsible, so that it was easily concealed under a coat — and put it down over Driscoll's eyes. He went out quickly and flung the body over the rail, where it got that smash on the back of the head. Then he went out by one of the side gates, unobserved.'
When Hadley had finished, he did not immediately go on eating his sandwich. He stared at the sandwich queerly, put it down; and they were all very quiet. Over their heads, now, somebody was pacing with slow steps. Back and forth, back and forth.
They heard a clock strike a musical note; then, faintly, voices in the front hall, and the boom of the big door closing.
It echoed hollowly through the house. The steps upstairs hesitated, then resumed their slow pacing….
`That'll be the police surgeon,' said Hadley. He rubbed his eyes drowsily and stretched stiff muscles. 'A bit more routine work, and I'm going home to bed.'
`Excuse me,' interrupted a voice at the door. `May I see you a moment?'
The tone was such that Hadley spun round. It began levelly, and then gave a sort of horrible jerk. Coming out of the shadows they saw Dalrye. His eyes, as he moved them from one to the other of these men, were glazed.
`Don't say anything!' Dr Fell suddenly boomed. `For God's sake keep your mouth shut! You will think better of it — you'll…'
Dalrye put out his hand. `It's no good,' he said. His eyes fixed on Hadley.
`I wish to give myself up, sir,' he said, in a clear voice. `I killed Philip Driscoll.'
20. The Murderer Speaks
In the utter and appalled silence of that library, even thee footsteps upstairs seemed to have stopped as though they had heard him Dalrye mechanically yanked open his collar. His eyes were on the fire as he went on
`I didn't mean to kill him, you know. It was an accident. I shouldn't have attempted to conceal it afterwards; that was the mistake. I shouldn't have told you at all if it hadn't been for your suspecting Major Bitton… and then his killing himself, and your being sure he'd done it…. I couldn't stand for that. He was — a - real friend, Phil never thought about anybody but himself. But Major Bitton He fumbled at his eyes. `I've lost my glasses, and I can't see very, well without them.'
He stumbled over to the fire, sat down, and as he spread out his hands they saw he was shivering.
`You young fool,' Dr Fell said, slowly. `You've ruined everything. I've been trying to cover you all, evening, ever since I saw that girl, of yours. There wasn't any sense in your telling. You've only brought more tragedy on this house.'
Hadley straightened himself up, almost as though he were trying to recover from a blow in the face.
`This isn't real,' he said. `It can't be. Are you telling me, as a police officer, without any joking…'
`I've been walking the streets for an hour,' the young man answered. `When I kissed Sheila good-night over at her friends' place I knew it was the last time I'd ever see her outside the dock. And so I thought I couldn't tell you. But I realized I couldn't go on this way, either.' He put his head in his hands. Then an idea seemed to strike him and he peered round, `Did somebody say he knew it already?'
`Yes,' snapped Dr Fell, grimly. `And if you'd had the sense to keep your mouth shut….'
Hadley had taken out his notebook. His fingers were shaking and his voice was not clear. `Mr Dalrye,' he said, `it is my duty to warn you that anything you say may be taken down….'
`All right,' said Dalrye. He peered blindly at the drink Rampole was holding out, and clutched it. `Thanks. I can use that…. I, suppose there's no good telling you it was an accident, is there? He really killed himself, you know; that is, he jumped at me, and in the fight… Christ knows, I didn't want to hurt him. I only — I only tried to steal that damned manuscript….’
He breathed noisily for a moment.
`This may be true,' the chief inspector said, studying him queerly. `But I hope it's not. I hope you can tell me how you answered the telephone in Driscoll's flat at a quarter to two, and killed Driscoll at the Tower of London a few minutes later.'
Dr Fell rapped his stick against: the edge of the mantelpiece. `It's out now, Hadley. The damage is done. And I may as well tell you that you've put your finger on the essential point. It's where your whole case went wrong… You see, Driscoll was not killed at the Tower of London. He was killed in his own flat'
`He was… Great God’ Hadley said, despairingly. `All this is nonsense!'
`No, it isn't,' said Dalrye. `It's true enough, Why Phil came back to his flat 'I don't know; I can’t imagine. I'd taken good care he should be at the Tower. That was why I faked the telephone call to myself. But I–I only wanted to keep him out of the way so that I could steal the manuscript.'
His trembling had almost ceased now; he was only dull and drowsily tired.
`Suppose we get this thing from the beginning,' said the chief inspector. `You say you wanted to steal the Poe manuscript…. '
`I had to,' the other said.
`You had to?'
`Oh!' muttered Dalrye. His hand went to his eyes automatically, and found no glasses. `Oh yes. I didn't tell you. It was all on the spur of the moment. Bing. Like that. I don't think I should ever have thought of stealing it out of the house here. But when he telephoned me early Sunday evening at the, Tower he told me that when he'd pinched his uncle's hat he'd stolen the manuscript with it.'
`You knew Driscoll was the hat-thief?'
`O Lord’,said Dalrye, with a sort of feeble irritation. `Of course I did. Of course he'd come to me. I helped him. He — he always had to have help. And of course, you see, he'd have told me, anyway. Because one of his choicest ideas was to get a Yeoman Warder's hat from the Tower of
London. '
`By God and Bacchus!' muttered Dr Fell. `I overlooked that. Yes, certainly., Any, respectable hat-thief would have tried to…'
`Be' quiet, will you?', snapped Hadley. `Listen, Mr Dalrye. He told you about it..'.?’
'And that's when I got the idea,' Dalrye nodded — absently. `I was pretty desperate, you see. They were after me, and it would have come out, within a week. So I told Phil over the telephone to hang on to that manuscript; not to stir until I found him a plan and to go round to the house Sunday night and find out what he could before he acted. And in the meantime… ' He sat back in his chair. `I knew where Arbor was, over the week- end. I'd been out with Sheila Saturday night, and so of course I knew. I wouldn't have dared phone him if he'd been in this house…'
`You phoned Arbor?'
`Uh. Didn't he tell you? I was afraid he had recognized the voice, and I was panicky tonight when I heard he was coming in….'
Hadley stared sharply at Dr Fell. `What did Arbor mean, then? I thought you told me he said he was sure it was Driscoll…?'
`He did,' said the doctor. `But I'm afraid you didn't pay close enough attention to what Miss Bitton said to- night, Hadley. Don't you remember her telling us about how, Driscoll had played jokes on her, by telephoning and
