In very much the same words that he had used to Mark he repeated the whole history of Fenton's relations with Nancy and himself, taking the utmost care to omit nothing which might have any conceivable bearing on the case. Then, still in the same methodical and detached fashion, he went on to relate the remainder of his story, while all the time the Inspector sat by in grim silence, his hard blue eyes fixed intently on his companion's face.
"I don't know how it strikes you," observed Colin, when he had quite finished, "but Nancy and I have been chewing it over pretty thoroughly, and we both think that it would take a damn sight more than a mere fit of jealousy to make Fenton risk his neck. We feel certain that there must be something much bigger at the back of it all, but beyond that we're absolutely gravelled."
Without replying, Marsden leaned forward and pulled open a drawer in his desk. He turned over some of its contents, and then, taking out an unmounted photograph, handed it to Colin.
"Do you recognize that?" he asked.
Colin sat up, with a sudden start of surprise.
"Recognize it!" he exclaimed. "Of course I do. It's 'Spike' Cooper."
"You're sure?"
"Positive. You don't suppose I'd forget his infernal face?" He inspected the picture carefully for several seconds, and then passed it back. "Where did you get hold of this?" he asked.
"It was sent to me three days ago by the Canadian police. Perhaps you would like to hear the letter that came with it."
He dived into the drawer again, and produced an official-looking sheet of blue paper.