a very powerful one knocked him over this rail, or that the murderer later pushed him over and; (c) that subsequently the killer decorated him with Sir William's hat. You see? Then from where could that bolt have been fired?'
General Mason massaged his imperial. They were peering at the wall across the way, at the gate of the Bloody Tower just opposite, and the bulk of a higher round tower just beside it.
`Well,' said the general, `it could have been fired from anywhere. From this lane, east or west, on either side of Traitors' Gate. From under the gate of the Bloody Tower; that's the most likely direction — a straight line. But it's tommyrot. You can't go marching about here with a crossbow, as though it were a rifle. It couldn't be done.'
Hadley nodded placidly.
`I know it couldn't: But, as you say, that's the most likely direction. So what about windows, or the top of a wall? Where could you stand and shoot a bolt from some such place? I shouldn't have asked, but I can't see anything beyond outlines in this fog.'
The general stared at him. Then he nodded curtly. There was a hard, jealous, angry parade-ground ring in his voice when he spoke; it made Rampole jump.
`I see. If you're suggesting, Mr Hadley, that any member of this garrison… ‘
'I didn't say that, my dear sir,' Hadley answered, mildly. `I asked you a perfectly ordinary question.'
The general jammed his hands deeper, in the pockets of his waterproof. After a moment he turned sharply and pointed to the opposite wall.
`Up there on your left,' he said, `in that block of buildings jutting up above the wall proper, you may, be able to make out some windows. They are the windows of the King's house. It is occupied by some of the Yeomen Warders and their families and by myself,' I might add…. Then the ramparts of the wall overlooking us run straight along to the Bloody Tower. That space is called Raleigh's Walk, and only a rather tall man can see over the rampart at all… Raleigh's Walk joins the Bloody Tower, in which there are some windows looking down at us, Next to the Bloody Tower, on the right, and joined to it, you see that large round tower? That's the Wakefield Tower, where the Crown jewels are kept. You will find some windows there. You will also — not unnaturally find two warders on guard. Does that answer your question, sir?'
`Thanks,' said the chief inspector; `I'll look into it when the mist clears a bit. If you're ready, gentlemen, I think we can return to the Warders' Hall.'
4. Inquisition
Gently General Mason touched Sir William's arm as they turned away. The latter had not spoken for a long time; he had remained holding to the rail and staring into the dimness of the area; and he did not speak now. He walked quietly at the general's side as they returned.
Still holding the hat under his arm, and propping flashlight against notebook, Hadley made several notations. His heavy, quiet face, with the expressionless dark eyes, was bent close over it in the torch-gleam.
He nodded, and shut the book.
`To continue, General. About that crossbow bolt. Does it belong here?'
`I have been wondering how long you would take to get to that,' the other answered, sharply. `I don't know. I am inquiring. There is a collection of crossbows and a few bolts here; it is in a glass case in the armoury on the second floor of the White Tower. But I am perfectly certain nothing has been stolen from there…. However, we have a workshop in the Brick Tower, on the other side of the parade-ground, which we use for cleaning and repairing the armour and weapons on display. I've sent for the warder in charge. He will be able to tell you.'
`But could one of your display crossbows have been used?' `Oh yes. They are kept in as careful repair as though we meant to use them as weapons ourselves.'
Hadley fell to whistling between his teeth. Then he turned to Dr Fell.
`For a, person who enjoys talking as much as you do, Doctor,' he said, `you have been incredibly silent. Have you any ideas?'
A long sniff rumbled in the doctor's nose. `Yes,' he returned, `yes, I have. But they don't concern windows or crossbows. They concern hats. Let me have that topper, will you?'
Hadley handed it over without a word.
`This,' General Mason explained, as they turned to the left at the Byward Tower, 'is the smaller Warders' Hall; we have our enforced guests in the other.' He pushed open a door under the arch, and motioned to them to pass.
It was not until Rampole entered the warmth of the room that he realized how chilled and stiff he was. A large coal fire crackled under a hooded fireplace. The room was circular and comfortable, with a groined roof from which hung a cluster of electric lights, and cross-slits of windows high up in the wall. Behind a large flat desk, his hands folded upon it, sat a straight-backed elderly man, regarding them from under tufted white eyebrows. He wore the costume of the Yeomen Warders, but his was much more elaborate than those Rampole had seen. Besides him a tall, thin young man with a stoop was making notes on a slip of paper.
`Sit down, gentlemen,' said General Mason. `This is Mr Radburn, the chief warder; and Mr Dalrye, my secretary.'
He waved his guests to chairs after he had performed the introductions, and produced a cigar-case. `What have you got now?'
The chief warder shook his head. He pushed out the chair in which he had been sitting for General Mason.
`Not much, I'm afraid, sir. I've just questioned the guards from the White Tower, and the head workman from the repair shop. Mr Dalrye has the notes in shorthand.'
The young man shuffled some papers and blinked at General Mason. He had a long, rather doleful face, but a humorous mouth. His good-humoured, rather near-sighted grey eyes were bitter; he fumbled with a pair of pince- nez on a chain, then stared down at his papers.
`Good afternoon, sir,' he, said to Sir William. 'They told me you were here. I… — I can't say anything, can I? You know how I feel.'
Then, still staring at his papers, he changed the subject with a rush. `I have the notes here, sir,' he told General Mason. `Nothing has, been stolen from the armoury, of course. And the head workman at the shop, as well as both warders from the second floor of the White Tower, are willing to swear that crossbow bolt is not in the collection and never has been in any collection here!’
'Why? You can't possibly identify a thing like that, can you?'
`John Brownlow got rather technical about it. And he's by way of being an authority, sir. It's here. He says' — Dalrye adjusted his pince-nez and blinked `he says it's a much earlier type of bolt than any we have here. That is, judging from what he can see of it… in the body. Late fourteenth-century pattern. Ah, here we are. 'The later ones are much shorter and thicker, and with a broader barb at the head. That one's so thin it wouldn't fit smoothly in the groove of any crossbow in the lot.'
General Mason turned to Hadley, who was carefully removing his overcoat. `You're in charge now. So ask any questions you like. Give that chair to the chief inspector..;. But I think that proves it wasn't fired, unless you believe the murderer brought his own bow.' Then it couldn't have been shot from one of the crossbows here, Dalrye?'
Brownlow says it could have been, but that there would be a hundred-to-one chance of the bolt going wild.'
Mason nodded, and regarded the chief inspector with tight-lipped satisfaction. Rampole saw him for the first time in full light. He had removed his soggy hat and waterproof, and flung them on a bench; evidently there was about him none of that fussiness which is associated with the brass hat. Now he stood warming his hands at the fire, and peering round his shoulder at Hadley.
`Well?' he demanded. `What's the first step' now?'
Dalrye put down his papers on the table,
`I think you'd better know,' he said, speaking between Mason and Sir William. `There are two people here among the visitors who are certain to have an interest in this. They're over with the others in the Warders' Hall, I wish you'd give me instructions, sir. Mrs Bitton has been raising the devil ever since…'
