“Can’t see who it’s addressed to, can you?” Alec asked excitedly.
“No, worse luck; the first line or two has absolutely gone. Wait a minute, there’s something here. ‘This n-e-i-’ and the last two letters look like o-d. A long word. What’s that?” He pointed with a quivering finger.
“N-e-i-g, isn’t it?” said Alec. “And that’s an r. Neighbourhood!”
“By Jove, so it is! ‘This neighbourhood.’ And here’s something else. ‘That br-u-t . . .’ ‘That brute——’ ”
“Prince!”
“Prince?”
“The next word. See? You can make it out quite distinctly.”
“So it is! Good for you, Alec. ‘That brute Prince.’ Good Lord, do you realise what this means?” Roger’s excitement was showing signs of becoming uncontrollable; his eyes were sparkling and he was breathing as if he had just run a hundred yards in eleven seconds.
“It’s jolly important,” Alec concurred, beaming. “I mean, it shows that——”
“Important!” Roger almost howled. “Don’t you see, man? It means that we know the murderer’s name!”