“Fairly well,” replied T. X. coolly; “obviously the man who committed the murder was the man introduced into the room as Gathercole and as obviously it was not Gathercole, although to all appearance, he had lost his left arm.”
“Why obvious?” asked the Chief Commissioner.
“Because,” answered T. X. Meredith, “the real Gathercole had lost his right arm—that was the one error Lexman made.”
“H'm,” the Chief pulled at his moustache and looked enquiringly round the room, “we have to make up our minds very quickly about Lexman,” he said. “What do you think, Carlneau?”
The Frenchman shrugged his shoulders.
“For my part I should not only importune your Home Secretary to pardon him, but I should recommend him for a pension,” he said flippantly.
“What do you think, Savorsky?”
The Russian smiled a little.
“It is a very impressive story,” he said dispassionately; “it occurs to me that if you intend bringing your M. Lexman to judgment you are likely to expose some very pretty scandals. Incidentally,” he said, stroking his trim little moustache, “I might remark that any exposure which drew attention to the lawless conditions of Albania would not be regarded by my government with favour.”
The Chief Commissioner's eyes twinkled and he nodded.