Wendover made a vague gesture.
“I see nothing to connect the silver with this affair. The assailant may have been after it, of course, and got so frightened by the turn things took that he simply cleared out without waiting for anything. If I'd gone to a place merely to rob a man, I don't think I'd wait to rob him if I saw a chance of being had up on a murder charge. I'd clear out while I was sure I was safe from discovery.”
“Nothing further, then? In that case, inspector, it's your turn to contribute to the pool.”
Armadale had intended to confine himself strictly to the evidence and to put forward no theories; but the chance of improving on the amateur's results proved too much of a temptation, as Sir Clinton had anticipated.
“There's not much doubt that he was tied up,” the inspector began. “The marks all point that way. But there was one thing that Mr. Wendover didn't account for in them. The marks on the legs were on the front only—there wasn't a mark on the back of the legs.”
He halted for a moment and glanced at Wendover with subdued triumph.
“So you infer?” Sir Clinton inquired.
“I think he was tied up to something so that his legs were resting against it at the back and the bands were round the legs and the thing too. If it was that way, then the back of the legs wouldn't have any marks of the band on them.”
“Then what was he tied up to?” asked Wendover.
“One of the chairs inside the cottage,” the inspector went on. “If he'd been sitting in the chair, with each leg tied to a leg of the chair, you'd get just what we saw on the skin.”