Thirty ESCAPE
The man on the floor stared up at them. His pince-nez had flown off andso had his hat. There could be no further attempt at disguise. Slight tracesof makeup¹ were visible about the eyebrows², but otherwise the face wasthe pleasant, slightly vacuous³ face of Roger Bassington-ffrench.
He spoke⁴ in his own agreeable tenor⁵ voice, its note that of pleasant soli-loquy.
“Very interesting,” he said. “I really knew quite well that no man tied upas you were could have thrown a boot through that skylight. But becausethe boot was there among the broken glass I took it for cause and effectand assumed that, though it was impossible, the impossible had beenachieved. An interesting light on the limitations of the brain.”
As nobody spoke, he went on still in the same reflective voice:
“So, after all, you’ve won the round. Most unexpected and extremely re-grettable. I thought I’d got you all fooled nicely.”
“So you had,” said Frankie. “You forged that letter from Bobby, I sup-pose?”
“I have a talent that way,” said Roger modestly.
“And Bobby?”
Lying on his back, smiling agreeably, Roger seemed to take a positivepleasure in enlightening them.
“I knew he’d go to the Grange. I only had to wait about in the bushesnear the path. I was just behind him there when he retreated after ratherclumsily falling off a tree. I let the hubbub⁶ die down and then got himneatly on the back of the neck with a sandbag. All I had to do was to carryhim out to where my car was waiting, shove him in the dickey and drivehim here. I was at home again before morning.”
“And Moira?” demanded Bobby. “Did you entice⁷ her away somehow?”
Roger chuckled⁸. The question seemed to amuse him.

分享到：