“Did I write that on the third?”
“You remember writing the letter, even though you may not remember the date?”
“You bet I do,” said Kenneth. “I've been kicking myself for having done it ever since I heard about the murder. Didn't I tell you the swine would keep my letter, Giles?”
“Do you also remember a second letter which you wrote your half-brother - presumably on receipt of his refusal to send you any money?”
Kenneth frowned. “No, I'm afraid I don't. Did I write a second time?”
The Superintendent opened his pocket-book and took out a single sheet of notepaper. “Isn't that it, Mr Vereker?”
Kenneth leaned forward to read it, and burst out laughing. “Oh lord, yes! Sorry! I'd forgotten that for the moment.”
“You were angry enough to write a letter telling your half-brother that it would give you great pleasure to wring his neck -”
“Bloody neck,” corrected Kenneth.
“Yes, his bloody neck is the term you used. You felt that strongly enough to write it, and then forgot all about it?”