“On Saturday, when Mr. Brooklyn was here, he was showing off a billiard stroke with it out there in the hall. It had a ferrule then, all right. I happened to notice it.” No further information was forthcoming, and the inspector passed on to his next business. He went straight back to Liskeard House, and up to Prinsep’s study. Exhaustive search there failed to reveal any trace of the missing ferrule. “I may as well try the garden,” said the inspector to himself. “But it’s almost too good to be true.” Nevertheless, there in the garden the inspector lighted on the ferrule, lying in a heap of gravel near the base of the statue. He cursed himself for missing it before, and then blessed his luck that had enabled him to retrieve the blunder. There could be no doubt that it was the right ferrule. The stick was an outsize and it fitted exactly. The nail-marks and the impression left by the rim on the stick coincided exactly. The ferrule was a little out of shape, as if it had been wrenched, and there was a scratch on it where it was bent. But, when the inspector had bent it back into shape, there could be no doubt about the fit. Walter Brooklyn had been in the garden as well as in Prinsep’s study, and had been on the very spot where the murder of George Brooklyn had taken place. Inspector Blaikie was more than satisfied with his day’s work. Out of seemingly insignificant beginnings, he had built up, he felt, more than enough evidence to hang Walter Brooklyn. He went in the best of spirits to report to his superior officer. Chapter VIII A Review of the Case The inspector found Superintendent Wilson in his room. As he told his case, the superintendent kept his eyes closed, but every now and then he gave an approving nod. His subordinate had done well, and it was only right that this should be recognised. The inspector’s spirits rose higher still as he saw the impression he was making. Having told the full story, he came to the point on which he wanted his superior’s assent. “And now, sir, I think, as we have abundant evidence, I must ask you to get a warrant made out at once for Walter Brooklyn’s arrest.” It was then the inspector received his first check. “Not quite so fast, my friend,” said the superintendent. “Do you mean that, in your opinion, it is proved that Walter Brooklyn committed these murders?” “Surely,” said Inspector Blaikie, “after what I’ve just told you, there can’t be the shadow of a doubt about it.” Superintendent Wilson gave a short laugh, and sat upright in his chair. He was beginning to enjoy himself. “Ah, but I think there can. Come now. Let us take first only the murder of John Prinsep, leaving out of account for the moment the murder of George Brooklyn. Now, what evidence have you as to the murder of John Prinsep?”