“Between us three there is no need for bluff. You are being worried by all kinds of people to solve the problem. You see that your professional reputation is at stake and that much hangs on it. And you see here a good chance of finding a victim, who will not suffer any hardship in any case, as he obviously ought to be under lock and key.
“It is the Stenie Morrison case over again, only here you will not have to have an innocent man tried, because this man will not be able to plead. It will all work out finely. This man will go to Broadmoor, where he will be quite happy, and there will be much praise for the smart Commissioner.”
Boyce flushed scarlet. “You mean I should fake up a charge against a man I knew was not guilty,” he said.
Collins shrugged his shoulders. “I have known it done,” he said, and turned to Sinclair. “Well, here ends the wonderful mystery of Leveson Square. There will be no difficulty in getting a case. I have not been at the Bar for nothing. There will be no defence, because there will be no trial. Personally, I could drive a horse and cart through the whole thing. So could you. But it will be beautifully stage-managed.”
Boyce rose in anger. “I suppose because you are a free-lance you think you can say what you like, unless you are trying to make a joke in rather doubtful taste. I do not see that any useful purpose would be served by continuing this discussion,” and he went out.
The other two looked at each other. Collins burst out laughing.
“Cheer up,” he said, “you look as if you had just missed backing the winner.”
“That’s just what I have done,” said Sinclair gloomily. “It’s all right for you, but I have to do what I am told. I know this is all wrong.”
“Do you? So do I,” said Collins quietly.
The other looked up quickly. “You are very certain.”