Michael nodded and turned away, skirting the lakelet on his way to Ravensthorpe. Sir Clinton sauntered over to the waterside and watched the dragging operations which were still going on. When he made his way back to the hillock again, Inspector Armadale followed him.
“There’s another point that occurred to me, sir,” he explained. “I think you told me that Polegate was wearing a Harlequin’s costume last night?”
“That’s correct,” Sir Clinton confirmed. “And what then?”
“One difficulty I’ve had,” the Inspector went on, “was to explain how the fellow in white got away from them all so neatly. I think I see now how it was done.”
Sir Clinton made no effort to conceal his interest.
“Yes, Inspector?”
Armadale obviously took this as complimentary.
“This is how I figure it out, sir. Polegate had a white jacket and Pierrot trousers on over his Harlequin costume. At the end of the chase he bolted into the spinney and out on to the terrace above here. That gave him a breathing-space. It took Mr. Clifton a minute or two to organize his cordon; and during that time the thief was hidden from them by the trees.”
“That’s obviously true,” Sir Clinton admitted. “If he did change his costume, it must have been at that moment.”
“I expect he had a weight of some sort ready on the terrace,” the Inspector continued. “When he’d stripped off his jacket and trousers, he wrapped them round the weight and pitched them over into the pool. That would make the splash they all heard.”