“He gave one horrible gasping cry, and I caught him as he fell, and threw the body on the sofa. I put his coat on, as I thought it would look more natural. I had just finished when I heard a knock and knew it was Brown.
“I waited sufficient time, as I thought for Mr. Halley to be outside, then went to the door and turned on the Dictaphone, and came back for Brown—but in my excitement I made one fatal mistake, I forgot to open the French window. I could have kicked myself, but it was too late.
“While Brown was examining the body I whipped off the record and hid it. That was all. I waited each day, hoping Mr. Halley would be arrested, and then I hoped to get a chance of killing him. If I had known that it was he who was sitting in that chair he would have been a dead man. But I am glad now. After hearing his story I felt he too had suffered, and I should have been content with my revenge. It was only when you accused Mr. Cook, and I thought an innocent man might suffer for my crime that I determined to tell the whole truth. I am an old man and shall not live long now in any case.”
He ceased and Sinclair took the statement from Fletcher, who had written it down.
“Sign this statement,” he said “if you are satisfied with it.”
The old man read it through carefully, and signed it with a firm hand.
“Now Giles—or Mr. Wheatland—if you wish to make an act of reparation—it lies in your power. Do you know where the marriage certificate is hidden?”
“Why of course. My wife told me when she was dying. I never touched it as I felt it was a magnet which would bring the other Reckavile home some day.”
He rose and went to the old desk. Brown carefully walking beside him. Stooping down he touched a secret spring, and a drawer, carefully hidden in the carving at the back, sprang open. Giles drew out a faded package and a record, and placed them on the table.
Sinclair opened the packet and handed the contents to Halley who turned white with relief.