“Not entirely,” he admitted. “The fact is that I had already formed a hypothesis as to the motives and circumstances which lay behind the murder of Julius D’Arblay, and I find this new matter not inconsistent with it. But that hypothesis may, nevertheless, turn out to be quite wrong when we put it to the test of further investigation.”
“You have some further investigation in view, then.”
“Yes. I am going to make a proposal to Superintendent Miller—and here he comes, before his time; by which I judge that he, also, is keen on the solution of this puzzle.”
Thorndyke’s opinion seemed to be justified, for the Superintendent entered all agog, and opened the subject at once.
“Well, Doctor, I suppose you have been thinking over Wilson’s story? How does it strike you? Have you come to any conclusion?”
“Yes,” replied Thorndyke. “I have come to the conclusion that I can’t accept that story at its face value as representing the actual facts.”
Miller laughed with an air of mingled amusement and vexation. “That is just my position,” said he. “The story seems incredible, but yet you can’t raise any objection. The evidence in support of it is absolutely conclusive at every point. There isn’t a single weak spot in it—at least, I haven’t found one. Perhaps you have?” And here he looked at Thorndyke with eager inquiry in his eyes.
“I won’t say that,” Thorndyke replied. “But I put it to you, Miller, that the alleged facts that are offered are too abnormal to be entertained. We cannot accept that string of coincidences. It must be obvious to you that there is a fallacy somewhere and that the actual facts are not what they seem.”
“Yes, I feel that, myself,” rejoined Miller. “But what are we to do? How are we to find the flaw in the evidence, if there is one? Can you see where to look for it? I believe you can.”
“I think there is one point which ought to be verified,” said Thorndyke. “The identification of Crile doesn’t strike me as perfectly convincing.”