"It's an ugly thing to face, then, but here it is. The murderer of Depping — X— the decidedly brainy person who worked out this design — is here. He's no fanciful gangster. He's a member of the community in an English village, and probably not a mile away from us now. That's why Fve gone through this laborious explanation: so that we could center our activities. As it stands now—"
He leaned forward, and beat his finger slowly into his palm.
"— as it stands now, he thinks he is safe. He thinks we have laid the murder on Louis Spinelli. That's where we have the advantage, and the only way we shall be able to trap him unawares. Therefore, for the time being, we shall keep silent about everything we know, including our suspicions as to Depping's past. I shall have to report it all to Hadley, and the past can be investigated from London. But our information we will keep to ourselves.
"Besides, gentlemen, we have several valuable clues. The murderer made one or two mistakes, which I needn't outline at the moment, but his greatest mistake was leaving the eight of swords. It supplies a direction in which to look for the motive."
"Are you at last prepared, then," said the bishop, "to tell us what this eight of swords means?"
"Oh, yes. I don't know whether you've noticed on Depping's shelves a number of works dealing with—"
From outside the house there rose a murmur a voices and a trampling of feet. Morley and the bishop, who were near the windows, glanced out.
"Here comes a whole procession," said the former. "My father, and Inspector Murch, and my sister, and Dr. Fordyce, and two constables. I—"
Apparently the colonel could not restrain himself. Through the quiet of the coppice, eager and jubilant, his hoarse voice came floating from below.
"I say! Come down here! It's all up, you know; all up!"