"I did say he was murdered, but that's just what seems obvious to me. I've no evidence at all. We both know Windlay was murdered, but I've no evidence to pin it on any particular person any more than you have. It's no good just saying that whoever did the actual jobs we know that Luker was at the back of them. What are you going to tell a jury? With people like we're dealing with, you'd want an army of eyewitnesses before you could even get a warrant. Even then I don't know if you could get it. They're too big. Look how you've already had the word from up top to lay off the case. British justice is the most incorruptible in the world, so they tell you; but you can always whitewash a crook if he's big enough because it isn't what they call 'in the public interest' that he should be shown up. And look at the circumstances of these Kennet and Windlay cases. It's a million to one that you could never get any conclusive evidence on either of them if you worked until you could tuck your beard into your boots."
Mr Teal rolled the pink wrapping of his chewing gum into a ball and went on rolling it. His china-blue eyes were still unwaveringly inquisitorial.
"I'll agree with some of that up to a point. But you know more than that. You know something else that you're still working on."
"Only one thing." Simon was calm and collected: he had made up his mind to be candid, and he was going through with it — it could do him no harm, only perhaps reduce the complications of Teal's interference. "Kennet fell pretty hard for Lady Valerie Woodchester, who was set on to him by Fairweather to try and steer him off. He talked to her a lot — I don't know how much he told her. And he left some of his evidence in writing. That's why the flat was torn apart when Windlay was murdered. They were looking for it. But it wasn't there. Lady Valerie's got it."
The detective's eyes suddenly opened wide.
"But—"
"I know," said the Saint wearily. "You're too brilliant, Claud, that's what's the matter with you. I know all about it. So all you've got to do is to go to Lady Valerie and say, 'Where's that stuff that Kennet gave you?' Well, you try it. I have."
"But if she's concealing evidence—"
"Who said she was? She did. To me alone — without witnesses. If you pulled her into court, she could deny every word of it, and you couldn't prove anything different."
"But what is she doing it for?"