Sir Benjamin stared at him. Dorothy Starberth had risen, her hand making a gesture….
"But, look here," the chief constable said, doggedly, "if this crazy surmise is true — I say if it's true — why, then, two years… The murderer would just have run away, wouldn't he, and be beyond pursuit?"
"Thereby," said Dr. Fell, "admitting his guilt beyond all doubt, once the paper was found..Confession! That's what it would be. And wherever he went in the world, wherever he hid himself, he would always have that hellish thing hanging over him; and sooner or later they'd find him out. No, no. His only safe way, the only thing he could possibly do, was to stay here and try to lay hands on that accusation. If the very worst came, he could always deny it and try to fight it. In the meantime, there was always the dogged hope that he could destroy it before they knew." The doctor paused, and added in a lower voice:
"We know now that he has succeeded."
There were heavy footfalls on the polished floor. The noise fell so eerily into the dusky room they all looked up….
"Dr. Fell is quite right, Sir Benjamin," said the voice of the rector. "The late Mr. Starberth spoke to me before he died. He told me about the person who murdered him."
Saunders paused by the table. His large pink face was a blank. He spread out his hands and added, very slowly and simply
"God help me, gentlemen. I thought he was mad."
The silver chimes of the clock ran fluidly in the hall… "Ah," said Dr. Fell, nodding. "I rather thought he'd told you. You were supposed to pass the information on to the murderer. Did you?
"He asked me to speak to his family, but to nobody else.