“Things were beginning to take shape. I must confess I had suspicions of Lewis at first, but I soon dismissed that, and kept it up on purpose.”
He paused and helped himself to coffee.
“You must understand,” he continued, “that I had not a shred of evidence. If I had told my suspicions I should have been laughed at, and probably lost my job. Then there came the complication of Boyce and Jackson. I saw he was dead set on getting this man proved guilty, as he was sure we should never get the real man.”
“Do you mean to say he was going to get an innocent man convicted?” said Mabel, in horror.
“Not convicted. He would merely be put back in an asylum, and I can assure you it happens far oftener than the public know, that an innocent man has to suffer. The police argue that they have got hold of a man with a terrible past, and that even if he is not the actual culprit he deserves to be put away. You will find, in these cases where murder is the crime, he is always sent to penal servitude for life.”
“How dreadful,” said Mabel, “I thought our justice was so good in England.”
“I am afraid what Mr. Sinclair says is true,” said Allery. “I have never been mixed up with criminal cases, but I have heard a good deal. Please go on.”
“I saw,” said Sinclair, “that the real clue lay in the letter I had received, and it was disquieting that Collins had read it according to my supposition. The key to the situation lay in finding Sir Ronald Watson.
“I kept in touch with Collins’ movements, and soon learnt of his visits here. I thought he was here for another reason,” and he glanced awkwardly at Mabel, “but the mystery he made of it, led me to think he might have a double motive. I did not in the least suspect the truth, but thought he was trying to find the missing man from this end, if you understand me?”
Allery nodded. “That’s all quite clear,” he said.