“That button gave me quite a shock for a moment,” said Phillip, “appearing out of the sea on the Cornish Coast; for, of course, it was on Purcell’s coat when he went ashore—at least I suppose it was. I understood Varney to say so.”
“He did,” said Thorndyke. “He mentioned the incident at dinner one evening and he then said definitely that the cork button was on the coat when Purcell went up the ladder.”
“Yes, and it seemed rather mysterious at first, as Purcell went right away from Cornwall. But there is probably quite a simple explanation. Purcell went to the East Coast by sea; and it is most likely that, when he got on board the steamer, he obtained a proper button from the steward, cut off the jury button and chucked it overboard. But it is a queer chance that it should have come back to us in this way.”
Thorndyke nodded. “A very queer chance,” he agreed. As he spoke, he looked at Phillip with a somewhat puzzled expression. He was, in fact, rather surprised. Phillip Rodney was a doctor, a man of science and an unquestionably intelligent person. He knew all the circumstances that were known and he had seen and examined the button; and yet he had failed to observe the one vitally important fact that stared him in the face.
“What made you want to borrow the button?” Phillip asked presently. “Was it that you wanted to keep it as a relic of the Purcell case?”
“I want to examine the worm-tube,” replied Thorndyke. “It is a rather unusual one; very uniform in composition. Mostly, Terebella tubes are very miscellaneous as to their materials—sand, shell, little pebbles and so forth. The material of this one seems to be all alike.”
“Probably the stuff that the worm was able to pick up in the neighbourhood of Morte Hoe.”
“That is possible,” said Thorndyke, and the conversation dropped for a moment, each man occupying himself with reflections on the other. To Phillip it seemed rather surprising that a man like Thorndyke, full of important business, should find time, or even inclination, to occupy himself with trivialities like this. For, after all, what did it matter whether this worm-tube was composed of miscellaneous gatherings or of a number of similar particles? No scientific interest attached to the question. It seemed rather a silly quest. And yet Thorndyke had thought it worth while to borrow the specimen for this very purpose.
Thorndyke, for his part, was more than ever astonished at the mental obtuseness of this usually acute and intelligent man. Not only had he failed in the first place to observe a most striking and significant fact; he could not see that fact even when his nose was rubbed hard on it.
As they passed through Old Buildings and approached the main gateway, Phillip slowed down. “I am going in to my brother’s chambers, here, to have tea with him. Do you care to join us? He will be glad to see you.”