`Precisely! And that,' said Dr Fell, rapping his stick on the floor, `is where, for a second, he completely lost his head. He wanted to get it out of his hands. It was almost literally burning his fingers. He went out, on that misty day, and paced the streets. And with every step he was gravitating towards his uncle's house, with possibilities multiplying and whirling in his brain, until he lost his head altogether.
`Hadley, do you, remember what time Sir William arrived this afternoon at the bar where he met us? It was close on two o'clock. And when he described the theft of his second hat to us, he said, "It happened an hour and a half ago, and I'm still boiling."' It happened, then, roughly, at about twenty minutes to one. Sir William was ready to make his monthly round of calls, as he told us and, as he also told us, they rarely varied. It was the afternoon for his monthly call on Driscoll, by the way. I believe be pointed that out…. His car was standing in the mist at the kerb. His chauffeur had gone down to buy cigarettes, and Sir William had not yet stepped out of the house. And Driscoll was there at the corner, watching it.'
`I'm beginning to remember a lot of things Bitton said,' the chief inspector answered grimly. `He told us he saw somebody with his arm through the window of the car,
fumbling with the side pocket' You mean — `Driscoll couldn't stand it any longer; and he wanted to shove the manuscript into the pocket of the car?'
`I do. And he was prevented by Sir William's instant arrival on the scene. Sir William thought he was a sneak-thief. He didn't mind chasing sneak-thieves: He yelled, "Hi!" and charged — and Driscoll (probably instinctively) did the only piece of quick thinking I've known him to-do yet. He snatched Sir William's hat and darted away in the mist,
'You mean…'
`Instinctive experience, my boy. Because he knew the old man wouldn't chase him.'
`Good,' said Hadley, in a low voice, after a pause. `Damned good. But you're forgetting one thing. He may really have put that manuscript into the pocket of the car and it may still be there.'
Dr Fell blinked sadly at the mouse he had resurrected' from the floor:
`Sorry, I'm afraid you're about eleven hours too late. You see, even in the rush of going to the Tower in Bitton's car, I didn't neglect to examine the pockets this afternoon. It wasn't there. Driscoll never put it in.'