I recalled Hughes' advice to humor the inspector; and I said that,

having thought it over, I was not quite sure. It might have been earlier

than seven--say six-thirty.

"Exactly," said Bray. He seemed rather pleased. "The natural stress

of the moment--I understand. Wilkinson bring in your prisoner. The

constable addressed turned and left the room, coming back a moment later

with Lieutenant Norman Fraser-Freer. The boy was pale; I could see at a

glance that he had not slept for several nights.

"Lieutenant," said Bray very sharply, "will you tell me--is it true that

your brother, the late captain, had loaned you a large sum of money a

year or so ago?"

"Quite true," answered the lieutenant in a low voice.

"You and he had quarreled about the amount of money you spent?"

"Yes."

"By his death you became the sole heir of your father, the general. Your

position with the money-lenders was quite altered. Am I right?"

"I fancy so."

"Last Thursday afternoon you went to the Army and Navy Stores and

purchased a revolver. You already had your service weapon, but to shoot

a man with a bullet from that would be to make the hunt of the police

for the murderer absurdly simple."

The boy made no answer.

"Let us suppose," Bray went on, "that last Thursday evening at half

after six you called on your brother in his rooms at Adelphi Terrace.

There was an argument about money. You became enraged. You saw him and

him alone between you and the fortune you needed so badly. Then--I am

only supposing--you noticed on his table an odd knife he had brought

from India--safer--more silent--than a gun. You seized it--"

"Why suppose?" the boy broke in. "I'm not trying to conceal anything.

You're right--I did it! I killed my brother! Now let us get the whole

business over as soon as may be."

Into the face of Inspector Bray there came at that moment a look that

has puzzling me ever since--a look that has recurred to my mind again

and again,--in the stress and storm of this eventful day. It was only

too evident that this confession came to him as a shock. I presume so

easy a victory seemed hollow to him; he was wishing the boy had put up a

fight. Policemen are probably like that.

"My boy," he said, "I am sorry for you. My course is clear. If you will

go with one of my men--"




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