Sir Clinton pulled out his cigarette-case and thoughtfully began to smoke before answering the question. When he spoke again, his reply was an indirect one.
“There’s an old jurist’s saying that I always keep in mind,” he said. “It helps to clarify one’s ideas in a case:
Quis, quid, ubi, quibus auxiliis, cur, quomodo, quando?
That puts our whole business into a nutshell.” He glanced at the Inspector’s face. “Your Latin’s as feeble as my own, perhaps? There’s an English equivalent:
What was the crime, who did it, when was it done, and where,
How done, and with what motive, who in the deed did share?
How many of these questions can you answer now, offhand, Inspector? The rest of them will tell you what you’ve still got to ferret out.”
Inspector Armadale pulled out a notebook and pencil.
“Would you mind repeating it, Sir Clinton? I’d see through it better if I had it down in black and white.”
The Chief Constable repeated the doggerel and Armadale jotted it down under his dictation.
“That seems fairly searching,” he admitted, re-reading it as he spoke.