"… and yet, my lad, it's both logical and ironical that this particular case should produce what is in a sense a dummy murderer… "
"A dummy murderer?"
"I mean a professional criminal; an expert mimic; a mask. In short, a murderer who kills for the sake of expediency. How can a person who's playing a part as somebody else be anything more or less than a good or bad copy of the original? So he eludes us in his own personality, ltd till we've got to judge by is how well he speaks stolen lines. H'm! It makes for better analysis, I dare say, and the mask is undoubtedly lifelike. But, as for seeing his real self in the mask, you might as well question one of M. Fortinbras's marionettes… " He stopped. The small, lusty eyes narrowed. "You jumped a little there. Why?"
"Well — er," said Morgan, "as a matter of fact, they've — er- they've got old Uncle Jules in the brig."
For a moment Dr. Fell stared, and then his vast chuckle blew a cloud of sparks from his pipe. He blinked thoughtfully.
"Uncle Jules in the brig?" he repeated. "Most refreshing. Why?"
"Oh, not for murder or anything like that. I'll tell you nil about it. Of course they're going to let him out to-day. They—"
"Humf. Harrumph! Now let me see if I understand this. Let him out to-day? Hasn't the boat docked yet?"
"That's what I was getting at, sir. It hasn't. Thank the Lord for what you've said, anyhow, because that's why I'm here… You know Captain Whistler, don't you? And he knows of you?"
"I have had some experience," replied Dr. Fell, shutting up one eye meditatively, "with the old — um — cuttlefish. Heh! Heh-heh-heh! Yes, I know him. Well?"