"You do not think it?" Grant said, eyeing him shrewdly.
"Who said I don't think it?" Hemingway retorted. "What you want to do, Sandy, is to keep an open mind! Now, you take a look at Exhibits 1 and 2, and tell me if anything strikes you about them!"
The Inspector frowned down at the lengths of wire on the desk. "Picture-wire, both," he said. "But one is older than the other, for it is tarnished. They got no distinguishable prints from the second one?"
"None at all." Hemingway picked up a short length of twine, and held it out. Just take this, Sandy!" He set his elbow on the table, holding his forearm vertically. "I want you to imitate our interesting murders round my wrist. You can use that ruler for your tourniquet, and there's no need to go to extremes! Just show me how you'd set about the job, if you were going to bump anyone off like that!"
The Inspector looked faintly surprised, but he obediently slipped the twine round Hemingway's arm, held the two ends in his left hand, and with his right inserted the ruler above his grip, and gave it a couple of twists. He paused then, glancing enquiringly down at his chief. Hemingway nodded. "That's enough. Let go! Now do it again!"
The Inspector's brow creased. He said nothing, however, but faithfully repeated his performance.
"So that's the way you'd do it every time, is it?" said Hemingway. "So would Carnforth. Young Thirsk, on the other hand, does it my way!"
"Your way?"
"We use our right hands for the grip, and our left for the tourniquet. Thus, my lad, we get the twist from left to right, and you get it from right to left - same like Operator Number One."
The Inspector uttered an exclamation, and looked quickly down at the wires on the desk. "Mo thruaighe! I never noticed it! Is one a left-handed man, then?"