“I don't think you'd be much the wiser if I explained,” he answered. “It is a question of where the empty cartridge-case should have been found. More-over, I can't for the life of me see what could have induced Roger to shoot himself when he must have known that there was no evidence against him. He was no fool.”
“Technicalities about pistols are beyond me, I'm afraid. Where ought the empty case to have been found?”
“In quite a different place,” he replied. “There were other points too - minor ones, but significant.”
“I see. But they can't prove Kenneth did it. He might have left his pipe there any time, and if Leslie sticks to her story -”
“If Arnold Vereker had not been murdered things might not look so black,” he said. “But Arnold Vereker was murdered, and Kenneth had no alibi that he could prove. Everything he said was calculated to make the police look askance at him. He said he came here to see you. But he didn't see you. According to him you were out. He then said he went to a cinema. But he didn't know which one, and he slept through the greater part of the programme.”
“Oh, I know, I know!” she said. “He was utterly impossible.”
“Well,” Giles said, getting up, “he's being just as impossible now, Miss Williams. It amused him to see how far he could fool Hannasyde over the first murder, and he was so successful that it has gone to his head. But he's in a more precarious position now.”
She, too, rose. “Yes, I quite see. I'll go round to the studio at once, and talk to him. Of course, he must take you into his confidence. I shall tell him so, and I expect he will call on you at your office.”
“Thank you,” said Giles. “I hope he will.”