“It is a case knife,” said the chief constable. “The case will be perhaps a clue when we come upon it.”
“I believe I have it in my pocket,” said Freyberger, and he produced the sheath he had found in the house in St Ann’s Road.
The chief constable took the sheath and fitted the knife into it.
It fitted exactly.
“But how did you get it?” asked the chief constable in considerable surprise. “We found the knife in the body; it was fixed by such a ferocious blow between the ribs that the murderer could not extricate it. How did you come upon the sheath? You came from London only last night; did you find it here or in London?”
“I have not time to tell you, sir, the whole history of the case. I found that sheath more than a month ago in a house in London. If that knife could speak, its tale would, perhaps, turn your hair grey with horror. We must act at once, or the game will escape us. We are after a person who is more than a man, a person infinitely more in the shape of a devil, a person who can change his form. I tell you, I would sooner tackle a tiger than this man; yet I am going to tackle him and take him, too. Have you a map of Sonning?”
The chief constable produced an Ordnance map.
“This,” said he, “is the field where the murder was committed.”
He placed his finger on the spot.
“Is there a pathway across the field?”