“I expect his tale isn’t complete, of course. He could hardly give every detail. It would be a bit suspicious if he had, I think. If his tale had been absolutely complete in every detail, I’d be inclined to suspect a previously prepared recitation rather than an account of the facts. In a case of this sort, one could hardly expect a water-tight narrative, could one?”
He continued his examination of the floor; but there seemed to be no other blood-stains of any importance.
“Now let’s have a glance at the body,” he suggested. “We needn’t shift it till the surgeon comes; but we can see what’s to be seen without altering its position in the meanwhile.”
The Inspector was the first to reach the spot, and as he knelt down beside the corpse he gave an exclamation of surprise.
“Here’s an automatic pistol, sir. It’s lying almost under the body, but I can see the muzzle. It looks like a .38 calibre.”
“Leave it there. We’ll get at it later.”
Sir Clinton examined the body itself. The cause of death seemed obvious enough, for the weapon still remained in the wound. A glance at it set the Chief Constable’s eye ranging over the museum cases. He retreated from the bay and searched for a time until he found what he was looking for: an empty sheath in an unlocked case. Without touching the sheath, he scanned the Japanese inscription on its surface.
“So that’s the thing?”
The Inspector had come across to his side and stood looking at the sheath.
“So the thing’s one of the specimens?” he asked.