“Why am I so moral? Because the thing’s so damned immoral,” said Reggie vehemently. “What’s most crime? Human. Human greed, human lust, human hostility. But this is diabolical. Sheer evil for evil’s sake. Lomas, I’ll swear, when we have it all out, we’ll find that it still looks unreasonable, futile, pure passion for wrong.”
“Meaning Mr. Kimball mad. You do come back to that, sir,” Bell said.
“Not legally mad. Probably not medically mad. I mean he has the devil in him.”
“Really, my dear Fortune, you do surprise me,” Lomas said. “I perceive that in all things you are too superstitious. The right honourable gentleman hath a devil! It isn’t done, you know. This is the twentieth century. And you’re a scientific man. Consider your reputation—and mine, if you don’t mind. What the devil are we to do? Try exorcism?”
“You won’t charge Kimball?” Lomas signified an impatient negative. “Very well. You say you don’t let a man off because he’s in the Government. Suppose you had a prima facie case like this against a nobody. Suppose I brought you as good grounds for arresting Sandford. Wouldn’t you have him in the dock? On your conscience now!”
Again Bell and Lomas consulted each other’s faces. “I wonder why you drag in Sandford?” said Lomas slowly.
“He’s in it all right. I asked you a question.”
“Well, if you insist. One might charge a man on a prima facie case, to hear his defence.”
Reggie struck his hand on the table. “There it is! A man who is nobody—he can stand trial. Not a Cabinet Minister. Oh dear, no!”
“My dear fellow, the world is what it is. You know very well that if I wanted to charge Kimball on this evidence it would be turned down. I couldn’t force the issue without a stronger case. Do have some sense of the practical.”