Anthony grunted his disgust.
Lucas went on: “Lord! What a stir this is going to make. Millionaire M.P. arrested for murder of Cabinet Minister! It won’t be nice for us at the Yard either. Not at all nice! Getting hold of an innocent man and all that. Police shown the way by amateur!” He groaned. “Never mind, The Owl shall be the first to publish anything. I arranged that before I came down. And then they’ll have that report of yours to get out, too. What envy will tear Fleet street! Of course, that report can’t come out yet, you know. At least, I don’t think so; not before the trial——”
Anthony started. “Lucas,” he said, “there’s something we’ve forgotten.” He put a hand up to his hair.
“Gad! So we have. Let’s see.”
Together they stooped over the prisoner. He looked up at them and cackled.
“Rotten business!” Anthony grunted. “Seems almost indecent when the man’s like this.” He put his hand on Sir Arthur’s head. His fingers groped for a moment; then came away. With them came that immaculate head of graying hair.
“Wonderful toupé!” Lucas stretched out his hands for it. “I’d never have noticed it. And I thought they were always obvious. Well, that’s the last confirmation of your theory, Gethryn.” He peered at Anthony. “Lord! You look worn out, man!”
Anthony said heavily: “I am. Think I’ll get back to bed at my pub.”
Lucas glanced at his watch. “Yes, do. Get off now: it’s only ten past eleven. Shall——”
“What time did you say it was?”