"Got him, eh?" inquired the colonel, glancing from one to the other of the figures on the porch. "Got him drunk on parade — dead to rights, damme! Sorry to have pulled you down here for nothing, Fell. Still… Hallo, I'm sorry; I forgot!.. Let me introduce, Dr. Fordyce, my daughter Patricia…" He whirled round with an air of inspiration.
"How do you do?" said Hugh Donovan instantly.
"You've already introduced everybody," said the sad-faced medical man with some asperity. "And since the police seem to have finished, Fll be thankful to get on with my postmortem and be off."
"Oh, yes..Carry on, then" said Dr. Fell, with an absentminded air. He waited until the doctor and the two constables had tramped past him into the house. Then he looked round the little group, and fixed Murch with a sombre eye. "So you came back here for an identification of Spinelli from the valet, Inspector?"
"Yes, sir." Murch wheezed out a breath of relief. "And, by Gearge, sir! I'm free to confess how glad I am it was this man Travers, or Spinelli; one of those there gunman chaps, that'd as soon shoot as look at you, like you see in the films; and not one of our own folk. Ah, ah, hell soon learn you can't do that business over here, by Gearge!" Another breath of relief, which agitated the ends of his sandy moustache. "Ah, ay, a good thing. I’m bound to admit I was having ideas, sir."
"Ideas?"
"Ah," agreed the inspector. " Tis nonsense, sir, but there it is." A broader strain had crept into the good inspector's speech now that the burden of an official report had been removed. "Ah, but when an idea cooms to you, blest if you can drive 'ee cot. There he is, and there he stays. Eh zed to meself, Eh zed, by Gearge!" proclaimed Murch, illustrating what he said to himself by sweeping a big arm through the air and snapping his fingers as though he had just thrown a pair of dice, "is that true? Eh zed. Tis queer, when I heard some of the things that are being said hereabouts — hints, like — and had a look at his letters, then I had ideas. Both Mr. Morgan and I had ideas; yon's a clever lad, Mr. Morgan; he helped me this morning. Aa-hh-ha, yes. But Eh zed to meself. Eh, zed, 'Luther Murch, you'm dimp!' And a small matter now, too, with us having the murderer"
He threw out his big hands, dismissing it, but not without a frown. Dr. Fell regarded him steadily.
‘I shall want to hear those ideas, Inspector. H’m, yes. Together with all the evidence you have collected today; we haven't done much but talk. Please come upstairs. I’m afraid I've bad news for you."
The colonel interposed. He said: