“But the money must have been handled here—taken out of this cover, and the cover thrown away. Suppose somebody had seen him display that money during the day; had shadowed him here, followed him to this room, taken him by surprise?”
“No signs of a struggle, fur as I c'n see.”
“But a single blow with a black-jack, from behind, would do the business.”
“An' what about the—remains?”
“The river is just across the street. This would occur at night, remember.”
Mr. Bud shook his head. “An' the load o' parcels—what 'ud become o' them?”
“The criminal might convey them away, too, at his leisure during the night. They would be worth something.”
Evidently to test the resourcefulness of the young man's imagination, Mr. Bud continued, “But why should the criminal go to the trouble o' removin' the body from here?”
“To delay its discovery, or create an impression of suicide if it were found,” ventured Larcher, rather lamely. “The criminal would naturally suppose that a chambermaid visited the room every day.”
“The criminal 'ud risk less by leavin' the body right here; an' it don't stand to reason that, after makin' such a haul o' money, he'd take any chances f'r the sake o' the parcels. No; your the'ry's got as much agin' it, as the detective's has fur it. It's built on nothin' but random guesswork. As fur me, I'd rather the young man did get away with the money,—you say the other fellow'd done him out o' that much, anyhow. I'd rather that than somebody else got away with him.”