"I was telling you." He drew a deep breath. "I got sent to the Big House. But he was blowing in his money. And if he'd kept his head, and not thrown it around everywhere, he'd have been worth about six million, instead of only fifty thousand pounds in your money."
Dr. Fell opened one eye. He wheezed thoughtfully, and then said in a gentle voice:
"That's very interesting, my friend. How do you happen to know he left an estate of fifty thousand pounds?"
Nobody moved. Spinelli's eyes remained fixed and glazed. At length he said:
"Trying to trip me up, are you? Suppose I won't answer?"
They could hear his harsh breathing. Dr. Fell lifted his cane and pointed with it across the table.
"I wish you would endeavor to get it through your head, my friend, that there is at present quite enough evidence to hang you for the murder of Depping… Didn't I mention that?"
"No, by God, you didn't! You said-"
"That I wouldn't press the passport charge; that's all."
"You can't bluff me. This dick," he nodded at Murch, "told me this morning I was supposed to have visited Nick Depping last night. Well, I didn't. Show me that servant who says I came to visit him, and I'll prove he's a liar. You can't bluff me. And, if you try, I’ll be damned if I tell you what did happen."