“Why, just the other way round. That the list, whatever its meaning may be, was written on that piece of paper first. And then the murderer, wanting to send the cipher message to Brotherhood, took up that piece of paper at random to write it on, without noticing that there were already four words pencilled on the back.”
“That’s possible, certainly.”
“Well, don’t you see, in that case the list becomes very important, because it was written not by Brotherhood but by the murderer, and it may accidentally give us a clue to the murderer’s character.
“A rather obscure clue. As far as I remember all it said was Socks, Vest, Hem, Tins.”
“Yes, but look here: do you remember my asking whether those words were written on the paper, right at the edge of the paper, before or after the sheet was torn in half? Well, my own belief has always been that those are only parts of words, and that the other half, possibly with a lot more writing as well, was lost to us when the sheet was torn.”
“And you’ve restored the full words?”
“I think I have. I’m just going to write it out for you.” And, after scribbling for a moment, he put before Gordon two sheets of paper; one, which was blank, partly covered the other, so as to hide part of what had been written on it.
“Well, that’s all correct,” said Gordon: “Socks, Vest, Hem, Tins, all present. Do you want me to guess the other halves of the words—the first half, I suppose, in each case? Because I give you fair warning that I have never guessed a riddle in my life.”
Reeves took away the upper sheet of paper, and made Gordon read again.
“Hassocks, Harvest, Anthem, Mattins—well, I’m blowed! You ought to be given a fountain-pen for this sort of thing.”