The inspector seized his wrist. "Steady, sir. Steady. No violence."
"He claims to be Tom Saunders? He's a damned liar. He- I'll kill him. I―"
Without haste, Inspector Jennings pushed him away from the car door as it was opened. They were all around the rector now. With his tonsure and fluff of yellow hair, he looked like a decaying saint; he kept trying to smile. They escorted him into the house, where Dr. Fell was lighting lamps in the study. Sir Benjamin pushed the rector down into a chair.
"Now, then―" he began.
"Inspector," said Dr. Fell, gesturing with the lamp, "you'd better search him. I think he's wearing a moneybelt."
"Keep away-!" Saunders said. His voice was growing high. "You can't prove anything. You'd better keep away!"
His eyes were opened wide. Dr. Fell put the lamp down beside him, so that it shone on his sweating face.
"Never mind, then," the doctor said, indifferently. "No
good searching him, Inspector…. Saunders, do you want to make a statement?"
"No. You can't prove anything."