“What on earth made you think that? Had you some fresh evidence?”
“No, inspector, merely some fresh use of the old evidence. The more I thought about it, the plainer it became that both those sets of clues were deliberately laid by the same person—I mean the murderer. Don’t you see my point?”
“But why did the murderer lay two inconsistent sets of false clues?”
“That, my dear inspector, is the point. He laid them both in the hope that we should see through the one set, and not through the other. Which is just what you have done. He is a clever scoundrel. He meant us to hang Walter Brooklyn.”
“He’s too clever for me, if that’s so. But, supposing you’re right, I don’t see that we are much nearer to finding out who he is.”
The superintendent assumed the air of one instructing a little child, and, as he spoke, ticked off the points on his fingers. “My dear Blaikie, we have to trace the murderer through the false clues which he left. Point number one. Walter Brooklyn’s stick was found in Prinsep’s room. If Walter Brooklyn did not put it there, who did?”
“Dashed if I know,” said the inspector.
“Who could have put it there? Some one must have got it from Walter Brooklyn.”
“He said he left it in a taxi, didn’t he?”
“No, he said he didn’t know where he had left it. It might have been in a taxi, or it might have been in any of the places he visited that afternoon—in Woodman’s office, for example, or in the Piccadilly Theatre. You must find out again exactly where he went, and, if possible, where he did leave the stick. There is just the chance that Prinsep found it and took it up to his room. But I don’t think so. I think it was clearly left on the floor of Prinsep’s room in order that it might serve as a clue to mislead us.”