“Yes, of course; but I don’t see what it points to. The whole thing’s most odd. Foster certainly would have been a fool to hide the things here; he’s a sailor himself, and knows better than to put away chronometers and sextants in a wet ditch—unless he got frightened, and put the things there out of sight because the murder was discovered.”
“But you say you have traced his movements after he left. If he had come near here while the police were about, he would have been seen from the house. No, you’ve got the wrong prisoner. The person who put those things there didn’t want them again.”
“Then do you think robbery wasn’t the motive, after all?”
“Yes, it was; but not this robbery. Come, we’ll talk it over in the house. Let us take these things with us.”
Arrived at the house, Hewitt immediately locked, bolted, and barred the front door. Then he very carefully and gently unfastened each lock, bolt, and bar in order, pressing the door with his hand and taking every precaution to avoid noise. Nevertheless the noise was considerable. There was a sad lack of oil everywhere, and all the bolts creaked; the lock in particular made a deal of noise, and when the key was half turned its bolt shot back with a loud thump.
“Anybody who had once heard that door fastened or unfastened,” said Hewitt, “would hesitate about opening it in the dead of night after committing murder. He would remember the noise. Do you mind taking the things up to the room—the room—upstairs? I will go and ask Mrs. Beckle a question.”
Truscott went upstairs, and presently Hewitt followed. “I have just asked Mrs. Beckle,” he said, “whether or not the captain went to the front door for any purpose on the evening before his death. She says he stood there for some half an hour or so smoking his pipe before he went to bed. We shall see what that means presently, I think. Now we will go into the thing in the light of what I have found out.”
“‘HE STOOD THERE FOR SOME HALF AN HOUR OR SO SMOKING
HIS PIPE BEFORE HE WENT TO BED.’”
“Yes, tell me that.”