The Superintendent was in a mood of profound disgust and greeted Harding with the information that the whole case had gone to glory.
"What's happened?" asked Harding, rather abstractedly.
"You sent the Sergeant on here to make inquiries along the road to Bramhurst. Well, we've just had a report from Laxton," answered the Superintendent.
"Oh, yes! Captain Billington-Smith's movements. He's ruled out, is he?"
"It looks precious like it," said the Superintendent gloomily. "Young Mason, of Mason's Stores there, states that he passed the Captain's car on his motor-bike at twelve-fifteen on Monday morning, just short of the village. He says the Captain was changing a flat tyre, which is why he happened to notice him."
"How far from the Grange is Laxton?" inquired Harding.
"That's just it," said the Superintendent, "it's eighteen miles, and you can't make it less. I've been working it out, but it's not a bit of use, Mr. Harding, no matter how fast he drove. He couldn't have got back from there to the Grange and still reached Bramhurst at one-thirty. No, the bottom's been knocked out of the case, and that's all there is to it." He leaned back in his chair and tucked his thumbs in his belt. "Which brings us," he announced, "back to that Halliday."
His tone implied that he was prepared to expatiate on the subject, but the telephone suddenly buzzed at his elbow, and he was obliged to answer it. He became entangled immediately in what appeared to be an involved conversation with some person unknown, and Harding, seizing his opportunity said: "I'll come back later, Superintendent," and escaped, closely followed by the Sergeant.
"You didn't think it was the Captain, did you, sir?" said the Sergeant, outside the station.
"No, the time didn't fit. I'm going up to the Grange now. And I'd better test that alibi of young Billington-Smith's while I'm about it. Come along, Sergeant, and you can direct me to this lane that leads from the Grange to Lyndhurst village."