“Well, sir, in the heat of wine, I suggested to my companions that we ought to have that criminal’s brain for examination, in the interests of medical science and the possible benefit to society. It was a mad suggestion, but not too mad for my companions. We were just right to do what, if in our sober senses, we would not have done for the world.”
“In brief, Mr. Oakley, you went there and stole the body,” said Nick.
“That’s just what we did, sir, and precisely as you have stated,” Oakley admitted. “We came here and quietly got out the wagon, also a short ladder with which to reach the undertaker’s back window, which we had located before going away. We brought the body here about four o’clock this morning. We did not dare to leave it in the box, however, which we had taken from the room you have just inspected. We replaced the box in the room, but hid the body in the basement under the dissecting room.”
“It then was about four o’clock?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Continue.”
“We already had begun to realize, of course, the gravity of the crime we had committed,” Oakley proceeded. “We went to my apartments in the street below, but not to go to bed, for we were much too nervous to sleep. We held a long discussion of the matter and the situation in which we had placed ourselves, and we finally determined to replace the corpse in the wagon and to return it to Fink’s place, making a frank confession of our guilt and relying upon his mercy. But we found, upon returning to the basement, that we could not do so.”
“Could not, Mr. Oakley?”
“No, sir,” cried Oakley, with augmented feeling. “It was impossible for us to do so. Imagine our surprise, our consternation, our utterly inexpressible dismay.”
“You mean——”