“Do as I tell you,” said Rex impatiently.
Tab leant over the table, and gripping both edges firmly pulled....
XXXII
He awoke to consciousness with a sense of dull pain at the back of his neck and a feeling of restriction. He was sitting against the wall propped up, and when he tried to bring up a hand to rub his aching neck, he found they would not move. He opened his eyes and looked around and the first thing he noticed was that his feet were strapped together. He stared stupidly at the fastening, and tried to move his hands—but they were in a curious position. He was handcuffed behind. To the connecting links a cord had been fastened and passed under him to the strap.
“What—” he began and heard somebody laugh softly.
Looking up he saw Rex. That young man was sitting on the edge of the table smoking.
“Feel better?” he asked politely.
“What is the meaning of this, Rex?”
“It means that, as I promised, you have found the murderer of dear Uncle Jesse,” said Rex, his baby blue eyes gleaming. “I killed Jesse Trasmere. I also killed that drunken beast Brown. I didn’t intend killing Brown,” he went on reflectively. “Unfortunately he left me no alternative. He recognised me in the park at the time when I was supposed to be in Naples.”
“Didn’t you go abroad?” gasped Tab, the minor deception for the moment bulking largely.