"Why… yes. Yes, naturally."
"And you, Mr. Rampole. You know that I was at the doctor's, and that I never left. You saw Martin coming up to the prison with his light while I was there; you saw his lamp in the Governor's Room while I was there? In short, I could not conceivably have killed him?"
Rampole had to say, "Yes." There was no denying it. During all that time, Saunders had been directly under his eyes; under Dr. Fell's eyes also. He did not like Saunders' look. There was too much of a sort of desperate hypnosis behind the smile of the big, pink, steaming face. All the same…
"You, too, must grant all this, doctor?" the rector asked. "I do admit it."
"And I employed no mechanical device, such as has several times been suggested in this investigation? There was no death-trap by which I could have killed Martin Starberth while I was not there?"
"There was not," the doctor replied. His blinking eyes had become steady. "You were with us the whole time you say you were. In the brief moments when you were separated from Mr. Rampole while you two ran up towards the prison, you did nothing whatever — Martin Starberth was already dead. Your conduct was clear. And yet you killed Martin Starberth with your own hand, and flung his body into the Hag's Nook."
Unfolding his handkerchief again, the rector wiped his forehead. His eyes seemed to watch for a trap. Anger was growing now….
"You'd better turn me loose, Inspector," he said, suddenly. "Don't you think we've had enough foolery? This man is either trying to play a joke, or…"
"Here comes Sir Benjamin with the man you say is your uncle," remarked Dr. Fell. "I think we had all better go back to my house. And then I'll show you how he did it. In the meantime-Inspector!"
"Yes, sir?"