"Why should the unknown man take that trouble?" argued Trent. "He could not have known that my prisoner was the nephew of Sir Simon, and it would have been easy for him to have left as he did, after--as you say--committing the crime, without taking the trouble to throw the blame on an innocent man. I don't see what the assassin gains by taking such trouble."
"He provided for his own safety, in case his name was discovered."
"But," went on the Inspector, "how do we know that this unknown man saw Sir Simon at all?"
"The landlady's evidence makes that clear," replied Browne in a decisive way, "she saw him wearing the fur coat of the deceased."
"It might have been the man's own. Fur coats are very much alike."
"There I disagree with you. But presuming this to be the case, have you found the fur coat of Sir Simon in his room?"
"No. The landlady searched and could not find it."
"Then its disappearance proves what I say to be true," said Browne in a triumphant manner. "What happened is this. The assassin could not arrive at the appointed time, and Sir Simon retired to bed. Later the man came, and either obtained admittance through the front door opened by Sir Simon when all were in bed, or climbed up by the trellis to which you allude. The two had a talk and a quarrel, and the visitor cut the old man's throat. Then he waited until the morning. Knowing how his victim was to leave the inn, he boldly walked out, leaving strong evidence against Herries."
"But why?" asked Trent, persistently.
"Oh, I cannot tell you the motive for the commission of the crime, Mr. Inspector. You must learn that from the man who passed through the tap-room in Sir Simon's fur coat. And I think," added Browne shrewdly, "that you will learn, that the assassin implicated Herries to save himself, in the event of his being suspected."