“For how long?”
“She says it might have been a quarter of an hour, or it might have been three quarters of an hour; she really couldn’t say.”
“That sounds pretty thin.”
“How impossible you bachelors are! Miles, can’t you explain to him? Oh, well, I suppose it’s no use; you couldn’t possibly understand.”
“It’s certainly rather an unfortunate circumstance for Simmonds that, just at the moment the gas was turned on in Mottram’s room, he was indulging in a kind of ecstasy which may have lasted a quarter of an hour, or may have lasted three quarters.”
“Meanwhile,” said Bredon, “I hope you realize that your own case against Simmonds is considerably weakened? You were trying to make out, if you remember, that Simmonds murdered Mottram and burned the will, knowing that the will cut him out of his inheritance. But since we have learned to discredit the testimony of ‘Raight-ho,’ we have no evidence that Simmonds ever knew anything about the will, or had ever so much as heard of the Euthanasia policy.”
“That’s true. And it’s also true that these last discoveries have made me more inclined to suspect Brinkman. I shall have to keep my eye on Simmonds, but for the time being Brinkman is the quarry we must hunt. It’s Brinkman’s confession I look forward to for the prospect of those forty pounds.”
“Well, if you can catch Brinkman and make him confess, you’re welcome to them. Or even if Brinkman does himself in somehow, commits suicide rather than face the question, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, and we’ll treat it as murder. Meanwhile, if you will excuse me, I think I’ve just time to lay out that patience before supper.”
“Oh, he’s hopeless,” said Angela.