“I hadn’t a chance. You were on me like a thousand of bricks. I must confess that if Corbett were in my shoes he would be a doomed man.”
White didn’t know whether to believe Bruce or not. He was genuinely angry at the incident, but the barrister did not want to convert him into an enemy, and he vaguely felt that a catastrophe was imminent, and a false move by the police might do irretrievable mischief.
“Well, inspector,” he said, “I must confess that this time you have got the better of me. I did not know you were here. I looked in for the purpose of quietly studying the ground, as it were, and I was never more taken by surprise in my life. Moreover, your plan was a very clever one, in view of the fact that Corbett might return at any moment.”
The detective became more amiable at this praise from the famous amateur, for Bruce’s achievements were well known to his two colleagues.
“I suppose you wondered what had happened,” he said with a smile.
“I thought my last hour had come. I am only sorry that Corbett himself did not have the experience.”
“Do you really believe he is in the States, sir?”
“I am sure of it.”
“Then he must have returned there since he wrote that letter.”
“That is the only solution of the difficulty.”