`Yes,' said Hadley. `I'd thought of that point, too. I hope you're sure of the answer. I'm not. And the third hint?'
By this time Dr Fell, and the black ribbon of his eyeglasses, quivered to his chuckle.
`And the third hint,' he said, `is very short. It is a simple query. Why did Sir William's hat fit him?'
With a capacious tilt of his head he swallowed off his drink, glanced blandly, about the group, pushed open the door, and shouldered out into the mist.
10. Eyes in a Mirror
The great clock in Westminster tower struck eight-thirty.
Dorothy had not been at the hotel when Rampole and the doctor arrived there on their return from the Tower. A note left for Rampole at the desk informed him that Sylvia Somebody, who had been at school with her, was taking her home for a gathering of some of the other old girls. Owing, she said, to previous knowledge of her husband's passionate aversion to jolly little evenings of this kind, she had informed them that he was in the hospital with a violent attack of delirium tremens. She said he was to give her love to Dr Fell; and not to forget to pin the name of his hotel to his coat lapel so that the cabman would know where to put him at the end of the evening.
Rampole and the doctor dined at a little French restaurant in Wardour Street. Hadley, who had gone to Scotland Yard immediately after leaving the Tower, had promised to meet them there for a visit to the Bitton home that night. Dr Fell dug himself in behind a steaming parapet of dishes and a formidable array of wine-bottles; but throughout the meal he steadily refused to discuss crime.
On any other subject, however, it was practically impossible to stop him. He discussed in turn the third Crusade, the origin of the Christmas cracker, Sir Richard Steele, Beowulf, and Buddhism. It was eight-thirty before they finished dinner. Rampole, comfortably lazy and warmed with wine, had just sat back for the lighting of the cigars when Hadley arrived.
The chief inspector was restless, and drew up a chair without removing his overcoat.