“Or else the settling of the blood by gravity after death,” Sir Clinton pointed out. “Well, I hadn't expected to find any nose-bleeding. If he'd bled at the nose it might have saved him from apoplexy.”
Armadale looked up inquiringly.
“You think it's merely apoplexy, sir?”
“I'm afraid this is a ‘place’ within the meaning of the Act, inspector; otherwise I'd be quite ready to bet you a considerable sum that if Dr. Rafford carries out a post mortem, he'll report that death was due to congestion of the brain.”
The inspector seemed to read some hidden meaning into Sir Clinton's words, for he nodded sagely without making any vocal comment.
“What next, sir?” he asked. “Shall we take the body into the cottage and go over it there?”
Sir Clinton shook his head.
“Not yet. There's just one thing I'd like to be sure about; and it may not be easy to see. There's a better light out here. Turn up the trousers from the ankle, inspector, and have a good look for marks—probably on the front of the shins. It's a long shot, but I've a notion you'll find something there.”
Armadale did as he was bidden.
“You're right, sir. There's a very faint mark—far fainter than the ones on the wrists—on the front of each shin, just as you said. It's more like a very faint bruise than a mark made by stumbling against anything. The skin's not broken. Of course it shows up after death, otherwise I'd hardly have seen it.”