Wendover shook his head deprecatingly.
“It's hardly fair to start with the amateur, Clinton. According to the classical method, the police always begin; and then, when they've failed ingloriously, the amateur steps in and clears the matter up satisfactorily. You're inverting the order of Nature. However, I don't mind telling you what I think are the indisputable points in the affair.”
“The very things we want, squire,” declared Sir Clinton gratefully. “Indisputable points will be no end of use to us if the case gets into court. Proceed.”
“Well, to begin with, I think these marks on his wrists and round about his ankles show that he was tied up last night. The wrist-marks are deeper than the marks on the shins; and that's more or less what one would expect. The ligatures would rest on the bare flesh in the case of the wrists; but at the ankles the cloth of his trousers and his socks would interpose and make the pressure less direct.”
Inspector Armadale nodded approvingly, as though his opinion of Wendover had risen a little.
“Suppose that's correct, then,” Wendover continued, “it gives the notion of someone attacking Peter Hay and tying him up. But then Peter Hay wasn't a normal person. He suffered from high blood-pressure, the doctor told us; and he'd had one or two slight strokes. In other words, he was liable to congestion of the brain if he over-exerted himself. Suppose he struggled hard, then he might quite well bring on an attack; and then his assailant would have a corpse on his hands without meaning to kill him at all.”
Armadale nodded once more, as though agreeing to this series of inferences.
“If the assailant had left the body tied up, then the show would have been given away,” Wendover proceeded, “so he untied the bonds, carried the corpse — outside, and arranged it to look as if death had been caused by a heart attack.”
He paused, and Sir Clinton put a question.
“Is that absolutely all, squire? What about the silver in the drawer, for instance.”