“You have heard of this nasty business, Sir Percival?” said the officer.
“I have just come from the lodge at the Court,” replied Sir Percival. “There's no possibility of a mistake being made, I suppose? It is certain that Mr. Westwood shot himself.”
“It is certain that the poor fellow was found shot through the lungs,” said the Chief Constable cautiously. “I hear that you dined with him last night, Mowbray,” he continued, turning to Cyril. “That is why I have troubled you with a visit.”
“Why should you come to me?” said Cyril, almost plaintively. “I dined with Dick Westwood, and parted from him at the road gate before midnight. That's all I know about the business.”
“That means you were the last person to see him alive. He must have been shot on returning to the house after letting you through the road gate.”
“Must have been shot?” cried Cyril. “Why, you said he had shot himself, Sir Percival.”
“He was found with a revolver close to his hand,” said Major Borrowdaile, “and the undergardener, who discovered the body, took it for granted that he had committed suicide. You see the fact that there was a run upon the bank yesterday induces some people to jump to the conclusion that he committed suicide, just as the assumption that he committed suicide will lead many people to assume that the affairs of the bank are in an unsatisfactory condition. They are bad logicians. Did he seem at all depressed in the course of the evening, Mowbray?”
“Not he,” replied Cyril. “He was just the opposite. He ate a first-class dinner, and we discussed the fools who made the run upon the bank. It seems that they weren't such fools after all—so I've been saying to Sir Percival.”
“You are another of the imperfect logicians,” said Major Borrowdaile. “I want facts—not deductions, if you please. If there are to be any deductions made I prefer making them myself. I promise you that I shall make them on a basis of fact. Dr. Mitford saw our poor friend, and he has had, as you know, a large experience of bullet wounds—he went through four campaigns—and he declares that it is quite impossible that Mr. Westwood could have shot himself. The bullet entered the lungs from behind. Now, men who wish to commit suicide do not shoot themselves in that way. They have the best of reasons tor refraining. That is fact number one. Fact number two is that the revolver which was found at his hand was not Mr. Westwood's—his own revolver was found safe in his own bedroom.”
“Then the deduction is simple,” said Sir Per-cival. “Some one must have shot him.”