"I haven't finished yet," answered the professor. "Here is my complete theory. The dead man knew something of Watson's past, and was holding that knowledge over him, blackmailing him, in fact, and I think the company knew it. At the same time he pesters Miss Day with his attentions, which Henley, more than half in love with Miss Day himself, resents and determines to rid the troupe of a blackguard. He begins by pretending some friendship for his victim, and after giving out that he is going to town, suggests to the dead man that his absence may be an opportunity for the other to get into Miss Day's good graces. Why should he not dress up and take his place on the following evening? I have little doubt that Henley expected him to come to try on the dress that night after the performance, which would account for his being such a long time changing. The victim did not come; by the look of him in death I should say he had not been sober, which would account for his not coming. Next morning Henley goes to find him, takes him to the tent, not through the door, which would be fastened probably in some way, but surreptitiously, through some weak spot in the pegging down very likely."
"But why should he wait until the man had got into the pierrot's dress before murdering him?" said Zena.
"Because, my dear, he hoped the body would not be discovered until another troupe took possession of the tent. A dead pierrot would be discovered, and the troupe at Brighton would be communicated with. In the meanwhile Henley would have warned them, and the same tale would have been told, and the body been identified as Henley's. There would be no hue and cry after the murderer. Had it not been for Miss Day's pompon being torn off, I have no doubt this would have been the course of events. You will have to travel to Brighton, Wigan, and put one or two questions to our friend Watson."
"And who was the man?" I asked.
"Since no one seems to have missed him I should say he was a man not too anxious to have inquiries made about him, one careful to cover up his tracks, perhaps one not altogether unknown in criminal circles, a man of the type of your Beverley, for instance. By the way, have you ever seen Beverley?"
"No."
"How were you to know him, then?"
"By the man in whose company he would be."
"And you have good reasons for expecting to run him to earth at
Fairtown?"
"Excellent reasons," I answered.