'What?'
'Sure. He didn't know I knew everything about the interview he had with Grabell - I mean about his knowledge of the pistol Hume pinched - right up until the second day of the trial. He was pretty sick with me already for bringin' up the blackmail question while he sat right at the solicitors' table; so he rounded on me. But the first part of what he said was quite true. He did go down the passage between the houses; he was in Grosvenor Street after all. He did go up the steps to the side door. If you'll remember Mottram's notes written on the plan of the rear of the house, you'll remember that door was found unlocked -'
'But, damn it all, you yourself proved that he couldn't have seen anything through a wooden door -'
'And you're still forgettin' something,' urged H.Nt. gently. 'You're forgettin' two glasses of whisky.'
'Two glasses of whisky?'
'Yes. Avory Hume poured out two drinks, one for himself that he didn't touch (not wantin' to drink brudine), and the other for his guest, who drank only half of it You've also heard how Amelia Jordan later packed up those glasses in a suitcase. Well, I can tell you one thing she didn't do: she didn't put two drinks of whisky in a suitcase. She had to empty 'em. But there wasn't a sink at hand, and she didn't want to open the windows in case the locked room should be disturbed. So she simply unlocked the side door, opened it, and tossed out the contents of the glasses, thereby -'
'Thereby?'
'Givin' a way in to Reginald, who was prowlin'. You remember what he said when I fired the point about the glass door at him? He turned a little green, and said: "The door may have been open", which was quite true. The door was open. He didn't even notice what kind of door it was; he simply remembered the old glass door, and mentioned that because he didn't want to admit he'd stuck his nose into the house. How much he saw, I don't know. I doubt very much that he saw the murder committed. But he must have seen enough to give him a handle for blackmail on the person of Amelia Jordan, and he knew very well there was somethin' fishy about that suitcase. The trouble was, the suitcase had disappeared and he didn't know where. Until he did know - until he could find out - he was stuck between Mephistopheles and deep water. It's pretty hard to determine what went on in Reginald's mind, or bow far he approached Amelia. She was so bedevilled that I began to be sorry for her; but they weren't goin' to hang my client because of that. 1 thought it'd be very salutary, however, for her to see the evidence in court. I knew it would be very salutary to put Reginald into the witness-box and make that swine squirm on a hotter griddle than he'd ever dreamed of. Finally, it pleases and soothes me to know that he'll serve a long stretch in clink for tellin' what was, in essentials, the perfect truth.'
We stared at H.M. as he gobbled whisky-punch. He had wanted to be the old maestro; and, by all the gods, you had to admit he was.
'I am inclined to suspect,' said Evelyn, 'that you are a disgrace to all the splendid traditions of the fairness of English law. But, since we're all among friends -'
'Yes, I s'pose so,' admitted H.M. reflectively. I technically broke the law when I got my burglar pal, Shrimp Calloway, to break into Inspector Mottram's police-station one fine night and make sure my deductions were right about the piece of feather bein' in the Judas window. It'd never have done to go to court and get my great big beautiful dramatic effect spoiled by the lack of a feather. ... But still, there it is. The old man likes to see the young folks have a good time; and I rather think Jim Answell and Mary Answell are goin' to be just as happily married as you and your wench there. So why the blazes, burn it all, have you got to pick on me?'
He gobbled whisky-punch again, and lit his dead cigar.
'So our Reginald was laid by the heels,' I said, 'all by perverting the pure rules of justice; and I begin to suspect that Jim Answell was acquitted by a trick; and the whole thing moves by ... by what the devil is it?'
'I can tell you,' said H.M. quite seriously. 'The blinkin' awful cussedness of things in general.'