`Eh?' demanded Hadley. His. eyes narrowed and he looked at the doctor. `Do you think he came back here after he'd… I mean, just before he went to the Tower?'
'I'm fairly certain he did,' Dr Fell answered. `After he'd done what you're thinking about, he still had over twenty minutes to get to the Tower in time for his appointment, you remember. But he was twenty minutes late for it… It's all right, Miss Bitton. Just put the hat aside with the other things.'
`Anyhow, I hope you'll get out,' she said, practically. 'Bob, you might call Marks and have him take an armload of those things out to the car. I'm filthy, absolutely filthy.
And he's got oil spilled all over the desk where the typewriter is, and a piece of sharp stone I almost cut my finger on:
Hadley turned round slowly to inspect the desk. Rampole had an image of Driscoll sitting under the green-shaded lamp in this cluttered room, patiently sharpening the crossbow bolt which was to be driven into his own heart….
`Whetstone,' murmured the chief inspector. 'And the typewriter…. By the way, Doctor, you found the tool you wanted, right enough; but I remember you said you were looking for something in his typewriter. What was it?'
"I was looking for the beginning of a certain news-story which gave an account of something before it occurred: I mean that little business at No.10. I wasn't sure he'd started it, but I thought I'd better have a look in case you didn't believe me. It wasn't in his typewriter, but it was on the desk I have it in my pocket. If he intended to scoop Fleet Street, you see, he wanted time to prepare a corking good story before the other reporters even heard of it. But there was such a litter of manuscript I almost overlooked it. He's been doing a bit of dabbling with fiction, too, I see'
Sheila Bitton stamped her foot. `Oh, good gracious, will you get out? I think it's mean of you, when poor Phil's dead, to sit here in his room like this, just talking. And if you want any of that writing, or all those papers, or anything, you'd better tell me, because I'm just going to put it all in a suit-box and take it home for Daddy; he'll want to keep it. Besides, some of it's burnt in the fireplace and you can't have it, and I looked in there because it was written in longhand and it might be a letter. She paused and flushed suddenly: `Anyway, it was just an old story. '
`Oh my God!' said Dr Fell.
His great bulk lunged across the room to the toy fireplace with its bright-red bricks round the grate. He added, `Get your, flashlight, Hadley,' and bent to his knees, pushing away the iron fender. There was a startled expression on the chief inspector's own face as he yanked out his flashlight.