“What an ass I’ve been! Young Torrance was in the Maze when the two Shandons were killed. He was somewhere or other about, probably, when Ernest was attacked. Clinton has most likely tracked him down without saying anything about it. And when Sylvia was shot, he wasn’t with us in the room; they said he was playing billiards by himself. Quite likely he sneaked out of the billiard room window, crept round, did the shooting, and got back under cover while we were all too taken aback by the business to do anything. If I’d been a shade quicker, that night, I’d have got him! And last night, when Arthur was attacked, Torrance had gone for a walk alone. It’s obvious! And like an idiot, I didn’t see it. All one needed was a pencil and paper and a list of the people who were actually on hand on each occasion; and then, by elimination, one was bound to get at him straight away.”
He pondered over his own obtuseness for a time, while the car ran down the road towards the Maze; but his train of thought was interrupted by Ardsley pulling up at a word from Sir Clinton. A uniformed constable stepped forward from the shelter of a clump of bushes, and Wendover saw with surprise that he had a revolver in his belt.
“Everything all right?” demanded Sir Clinton, as the constable saluted.
“Yes, sir. It went exactly as you told us. About a quarter of an hour ago we saw him hurrying along the road.”
“Just so,” Sir Clinton interrupted. “I watched him leaving the house.”
“He went into the Maze, sir; and as soon as he was well inside, we followed your orders and put the padlocks on all the gates. He’s tried to get out once, sir; but as soon as he saw us he ran back into the Maze.”
“You didn’t try to catch him, of course?”
“No, sir. Your orders were strict about that; and we kept to them.”
“Quite right. Now you’ve got the stuff up, haven’t you?”
“It’s over there, sir.”