There was a faint smile on Hadley's face.
`Now, then, let me reassemble my facts,', he suggested. 'You say Driscoll went out comparatively early this morning and never came back?'
`Yes.'
`He took the manuscript. But the stolen top-hat was here?'
`probably.'
`Also… the crossbow bolt was here?' `Yes.'.
`Then,' said Hadley, with sudden grimness, `our case is complete. Lester Bitton came over here to see Driscoll this morning, when Driscoll was out. He let himself in with a key he borrowed from his brother, and returned to his home at noon, where Miss Bitton saw him coming in… what did she say?…. "shaken and laughing".
`Anybody could have taken that crossbow bolt from the Bitton house. But only Lester Bitton could have stolen it from this flat. Anybody might have stolen Sir William's top hat. But, only Lester Bitton could have taken that top-hat from this flat to put on the head of the man he stabbed at the Tower of London, so that he could give Driscoll the fulfilment of his wish. And Driscoll did die in, a top-hat, with at least one woman to weep at his grave.'
Dr Fell let his glasses fall on their black ribbon, and,massaged his eyes fiercely. `Yes,' he said from between his hands, in a. muffled voice. `I'd thought of that, too. I'm afraid it rather sews him up. That's why I asked Miss Bitton whether he was carrying anything when he returned.'
They had not realized, in the slow passing of hours, how imperceptibly the night noises of London had faded. Even the muted roar, always in the background, had died until their voices sounded unnaturally loud. They had not been aware of the creaking of boards, or how sharply rose the singing of tyres when a late car hummed in the square. But even through a closed door they could hear the telephone bell.