“Naturally,” assented Mr. Quickjohn, “and moral proof is often far from legal evidence. However, I may say I have succeeded, after a lot of work, in obtaining corroborative evidence which brings home the crime, circumstantially at least, to the late Mr. Gastineau.”
“Ah, yes? Tell me.”
“The affair took place a long time ago,” Quickjohn proceeded, “and it is, as you know, sir, difficult to get men to carry their memories back over several years to remember circumstances important enough to us, trivial to them. However, I have succeeded in tracing a man, one of the Duke’s extra footmen he was, who distinctly recollects a gentleman answering to Mr. Gastineau’s description coming into the house without a hat or overcoat. The time of night would fit in with that of Captain Martindale’s death. The man I speak of took Mr. Gastineau for a late arrival, and wondered where he had come from without a hat. His coat he might have left in his carriage or even come without one, as it was a warm night. That fixed him in the man’s mind, but on these occasions there is too much bustle to give attention long to anything, and he thought no more about it.”
“It is a good piece of evidence,” Herriard remarked mechanically.
“Yes,” Mr. Quickjohn agreed, with a touch of self-satisfaction. “But I go farther, sir. I have also established the fact that Mr. Gastineau left Vaux House shortly afterwards, having obtained his hat and overcoat from the cloak-room, the overcoat being a grey colour, such as the late Campion deposed to as worn by the man he saw the second time. Now, Mr. Herriard,” the Inspector with a click put the elastic band round his note-book, which, by the way, he had not referred to, “that’s as far as I have got at present, but it seems to me pretty conclusive evidence as far as it goes, and the Chief Commissioner thought you might like to know it.”
“Yes, indeed; thank you, Inspector,” Herriard responded, indulging the thought of how little the astute officer guessed of the real import to him.
“Of course,” said that officer, pocketing his book, “the case is not complete, not nicely rounded off, as I hope to have it before it’s done with. There is a link missing in the chain, as no doubt you perceive, sir.”
Herriard did indeed know it, and that he could, if he would, supply it.
“The motive?” he suggested casually.
“That’s it, sir,” said Quickjohn. “If I can only discover that Mr. Gastineau and Captain Martindale had not been on the best of terms, had had a difference, say about a lady, that would make the case against the late Gastineau perfect.”