"We'll hang him right enough," said Rolfe. He pulled the cigar out of his mouth and looked at it approvingly. Though the talk was of hanging, he had never felt more thoroughly at peace with the world.
"It will be a pity if you do," said Crewe.
"Why?"
"Because he's the wrong man."
"It would take a lot to make me believe that," said Rolfe stoutly. "We've got a strong case against him—there is not a weak point in it. I admit that Hill is a tainted witness, but they'll find it pretty hard to break down his story. We've tested it in every way and find it stands. Then there are the bootmarks outside the window. Birchill's boots fit them to the smallest fraction of an inch. The jemmy found in the flat fits the mark made in the window at Riversbrook, and we've got something more—another witness who saw him in Tanton Gardens about the time of the murder. If Birchill can get his neck out of the noose, he's cleverer than I take him for."
Crewe did not reply directly to Rolfe's summary of the case.
"I see that they've briefed Holymead for the defence," he said after a pause.
"A waste of good money," said the police officer. Something appealed to his sense of humour, for he broke out into a laugh.
"What are you laughing at?" asked Crewe.
"I was wondering how Sir Horace feels when he sees the money he gave this girl Fanning being used to defend his murderer."