"Well, well, well!" mused the chief inspector, and rubbed his hands. "Now this is something like evidence, I don't mind telling you!"
H.M. uttered a groan.
"Just confidentially," pursued Masters, cheering up, "I never did like all this hypnotic funny business, and that's a fact. Oh, I know it's scientifically true, all right!
We bumped into it in that Mantling case years ago.* But here — no, it didn't just look right to me, somehow. Hold on, though. Stop a bit." He frowned, fingering his jaw. "That pin business. Mrs. Fane was stuck with a pin, wasn't she? And she didn't even so much as blink?"
*See The Red Widow Murders, William Morrow and Company, 1935.
"She was," agreed Ann firmly. "I saw it done."
"Uh-huh," said H.M. "So did somebody else." He turned to Masters. "Do you happen to have a pin on you, son?"
"What for?"
"Never mind what for. If you got a pin," said H.M., opening and shutting his hand, "gimme."
After staring at him for a moment, Masters turned back the lapel of his jacket, revealing two pins stuck through the underside.