‘Not definitely. My opinion inclines towards innocence, but I am by no means sure.’
‘I rather agree with you,’ remarked the K.C. Then, after a pause, ‘I have been thinking this thing over and I don’t for the life of me see a chance of clearing him on the evidence. It is too strong. Why, if it is true, it is overpowering. It seems to me our only hope is to deny the evidence.’
‘To deny it?’
‘To deny it. You must admit that Felix is either guilty or the victim of a plot.’
‘Of course.’
‘Very well. Let us stick to that. The evidence is not genuine because Felix is the victim of a plot. How does that strike you?’
‘Well, you know, I shouldn’t be at all surprised if that was the actual fact. I’ve thought over it a good deal, and the more I think the more I begin to doubt those things that were found at St. Malo. That letter from Emmie, the marks on the blotting paper, and the diamond pin, they all strike me as being a little too conclusive to be natural. Their very comprehensiveness suggests selection. Then typewritten letters any one can produce. No, I shouldn’t wonder if you’re on the right track.’
‘I think it’s our best defence, anyway.’
‘I think it’s our only defence. But, mind you, it’s an easy theory to suggest, but a mighty hard one to establish.’
‘There’s only one way,’ Heppenstall declared, pouring himself out some whisky from the jar at his elbow, ‘we must suggest the real murderer.’