“Then you think it was the stuff up at the house that was used?”
“I don’t think anything about it at present. All I wanted was to shut off that possible source of supply.”
“Then you must be expecting more murders?”
Sir Clinton appeared not to hear the query.
“Suppose we come to motives now. Barring very exceptional cases, there are really only five motives that make it worth while to commit murder: women, money, revenge, fear, and homicidal mania. And I should think that in most cases if you go deep enough you’d find either women or money at the back of the business.”
Wendover reflected for a time, evidently conning over the possibilities.
“It doesn’t seem to be women this time, so far as things have gone,” he suggested at last.
Sir Clinton refused to be drawn.
“I must confess,” he said, “that I have a sneaking admiration for the Shandons’ murderer—at least so far as his brains go. Could you imagine a better place for murder than the Maze? Absolute privacy guaranteed by the nature of the affair. No one could see through those hedges. The murderer can creep up to within lethal distance, come almost face to face with his victim, and yet remain absolutely invisible. And when the job’s done, he can sneak off in perfect safety. No one can swear to seeing him. If he’s found in the Maze, he can explain that he heard a cry for help and rushed to assist. It was a brainy lad who hit on that locale for his crime.”
Wendover thought he had put his finger on a weak spot.