“There is no magic about it,” said Sinclair modestly. “You see from the very first I saw clearly that, as we do not live in the age of witches and magic, there was only one man who could have had access to Reckavile, and that was old Giles, however much the problem was surrounded with difficulties. When I got Fletcher’s report, I saw the whole thing. Don’t misunderstand me. It is a matter of experience, not of cleverness. Fletcher had all the clues in front of him. The mention of a Dictaphone told me all I wanted to know. I had given him a broad hint when I told him the history of the Reckaviles, and I will admit that I thought he had committed suicide, a diabolical suicide to get his half brother hanged. I am not at all certain even now that that was not his real intention. He would have hidden the record, and swallowed the poison—you saw how quickly it worked—and things would have looked very bad for you, Lord Reckavile.”
“I wonder,” said the latter. “I saw something in his eyes at the last interview which made me suspicious of such a plot.”
“Well,” Sinclair continued “my mind being set on Giles, I pursued the usual practice, for which I take no credit, in hunting up his antecedents, and traced him as Wheatland. Then the whole thing was clear as daylight, but there was not a shadow of real evidence.”
“You remember,” said Reckavile, taking up the tale, “Southgate came to your bungalow, Ena, with important news that Sunday morning. The police had been down there making enquiries about me, and things were getting warm, so I thought the wisest course was to go to London and see Sinclair, and tell him the whole story. That was why he came down, but of course I knew nothing of his suspicions.”
“I see,” said Sefton “that was why you disguised yourself the second time.”
“It was my suggestion,” said Sinclair “if my theory was correct I saw that he was in very great danger from Giles, and the only way was to keep up the disguise till we had forced a confession from him, or got hold of such evidence that we could obtain an arrest. The record, which I was certain had not been destroyed, as Giles had no chance of doing so, and the certificate, were the things we were after, and I was so convinced that they were in the desk that we were prepared to break it to pieces if necessary, but Fletcher interfered, and afterwards Giles saved us the trouble. That I think explains the whole thing. I can only say how thankful we ought to be to have come out without another tragedy. But come, let’s talk of something more pleasant.”
Southgate rose at a signal from Sinclair, and filled their glasses with a very extra special champagne.
Sinclair rose. “To the health of the future Lord and Lady Reckavile,” he said.
The toast was drunk with enthusiasm. Sinclair set his glass down with deliberation, and said musingly “Good stuff that. I wonder how much it paid towards the revenue,” and he grinned broadly at Southgate who looked sheepish.
“Come along,” he said with a wink to Sefton “let’s examine Southgate’s cellars,” and with a laugh they went out, leaving Reckavile and Ena alone.