“It would almost seem to suggest some experience in the use of this weapon,” said Dr. Newton.
“That is indicated.” Reggie nodded at him. “Yes. Deceased been in good health lately?”
“I have been treating him for some time for gastric trouble—a persistent gastric catarrh. It was troublesome, but hardly serious.”
And upon that Reggie got rid of them and was left alone with Superintendent Bell. Superintendent Bell cocked an oldish but still bright eye. “And the next thing, sir?” said he.
“I am feeling depressed, Bell. Do you ever have feelings? I feel this is all wrong.”
“Well, sir, the evidence is thin, very thin.”
“Evidence? Oh, my aunt, we haven’t come to evidence yet. I’m uncomfortable. Everything seems wrong way up. Why did anybody kill the old man? He was making friends with Geoffrey again and anyway he had enough to live on. Herbert had an allowance and something of his own, too. Nobody else stood to gain by his death.”
“If you leave out the Italian girl, sir.”
“It keeps coming back to her,” Reggie said mournfully. “But why? Suppose he was nasty to her when he called. Would she run out and stab him in the street? I wonder. Did he know some horrid secret about her past? What is her past, Bell?”
“Pretty short, sir, anyway. She’s not more than eighteen. She was a café singer, all right. But we have nothing against her. In my experience they’re no worse than others.”