Sir Clinton admitted the possibility of such a case. “But now what about the attack on Ernest Shandon. How does that fit in?” “What’s one murder more or less to a man who has two on his soul already? The attack on Ernest may have been an extra blind, simply, like the murder of Roger Shandon. Suppose they’d got Ernest this afternoon, wouldn’t that have tangled the business up still further?” “Admitted, of course. And really friend Ernest would hardly have been missed. Is that all the theory you have on the point?” Wendover was rather doubtful about putting forward his second choice. “It might have been a practical joke, of course. Someone with a sense of humour rather out of gear might have had a grudge against the little beast and, knowing he was an arrant coward, they might have stirred him up without meaning to do him any real harm—just used an ordinary air-gun dart.” He looked at Sir Clinton suspiciously. “You yourself didn’t waste much worry over him, it seemed to me. I thought at the time that you were taking it as a practical joke, somehow.” “A very practical joke,” Sir Clinton said, but he kept every tinge of expression out of his voice when he made the comment. “Now we can go on to the identity of Hackleton’s agent,” Wendover resumed. “You say it was some one who knew the Shandons by sight. It must have been someone who had leave to come and go at will through the Whistlefield grounds, or else someone who landed on the river-bank. That limits things down a good deal. Roger Shandon didn’t encourage strangers to roam about his place. The gardeners had orders to turn out anyone who ventured in, unless they were going up to the house on business. No stranger or neighbour—bar Costock—was on the premises so far as is known. I came across one of the gardeners and he told me that.” Sir Clinton had no hesitation in confirming this. “That agrees with all my men have been able to make out.” “Then,” Wendover proceeded, “we’re limited down to the people at the house, the staff of the place, and Costock.” “Go on,” Sir Clinton encouraged him. Wendover pulled a notebook from his pocket and consulted some figures which he had jotted down at the time he heard the original evidence. “If you take the facts as we know them,” he went on, “it’s clear that Neville Shandon could not have reached the Maze before 3.37 p.m.; and the second murder was over before 4.5 p.m. As a matter of fact, the times really allow less margin than that, for Neville’s body was found at 3.52 p.m. and both were probably dead by that time.” “I think that’s quite demonstrable on Torrance’s evidence,” Sir Clinton admitted. “That means then that the murderer left the Maze at some time not much earlier than four o’clock, since Miss Forrest heard him in the Maze after Neville’s body was found by Torrance at 3.52 p.m.” “Most probable on the face of it.” “Then if you find someone in such a position that they could not have been in the Maze at 4 p.m., they’re cleared.”