II
It was just after two o’clock that I walked into the station and asked for Dick. I found him at hisdesk leafing over a pile of stuff. He looked up and asked me what I had thought of the inquest.
I told him I thought it had been a very nicely managed and gentlemanly performance.
“We do this sort of thing so well in this country.”
“What did you think of the medical evidence?”
“Rather a facer. Why didn’t you tell me about it?”
“You were away. Did you consult your specialist?”
“Yes, I did.”
“I believe I remember him vaguely¹. A lot of moustache.”
“Oceans of it,” I agreed. “He’s very proud of that moustache.”
“He must be quite old.”
“Old but not gaga,” I said.
“Why did you really go to see him? Was it purely² the milk of human kindness?”
“You have such a suspicious policeman’s mind, Dick! It was mainly that. But I admit tocuriosity, too. I wanted to hear what he had to say about our own particular setup. You see, he’salways talked what I call a lot of cock about its being easy to solve a case by just sitting in yourchair, bringing the tips of your fingers symmetrically together, closing your eyes and thinking. Iwanted to call his bluff³.”
“Did he go through that procedure for you?”
“He did.”
“And what did he say?” Dick asked with some curiosity.
“He said,” I told him, “that it must be a very simple murder.”
“Simple, my God!” said Hardcastle, roused. “Why simple?”
“As far as I could gather,” I said, “because the whole setup was so complex.”
Hardcastle shook his head. “I don’t see it,” he said. “It sounds like one of those clever thingsthat young people in Chelsea say, but I don’t see it. Anything else?”
“Well, he told me to talk to the neighbours. I assured him we had done so.”
“The neighbours are even more important now in view of the medical evidence.”
“The presumption⁴ being that he was doped somewhere else and brought to Number 19 to bekilled?”
Something familiar about the words struck me.

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