‘Well, I am sorry to say we don’t exactly understand how Sir William died. There is a doubt that it may have been suicide or even murder. Let me make it clear that this is by no means certain, but I am bound to say that the idea has occurred to us that the murderer, if there was one, hoaxed Mr Ponson to try to throw suspicion on him.’ The girl’s face paled, but she gave no other sign of emotion. ‘I dreaded it,’ she replied in a low tone, ‘and he dreaded it too. We talked the whole thing over on the afternoon of the day the body was found, and we couldn’t see any reason why Sir William should have gone down to the boat of his own accord. And then this hoax looked as if it had been made for just what you say. But I am at least thankful you take that view and don’t suspect Mr Ponson of inventing the whole thing. That, I may say now, was what I really feared.’ ‘I can only repeat that all the inquiries I have made up to the present have confirmed Mr Ponson’s story, and I have no reason whatever to think he invented it.’ ‘Thank you for that at all events. Now what do you want me to do?’ ‘To tell me at what hours Mr Ponson came and left here on the Wednesday night, and what took place while he was here.’ ‘He came at eleven—almost exactly. I looked at the clock when the ring came, for we seldom had so late a call. He showed me the two notes he had received, and asked me about them. When I explained I had not written them he told us—my father was present—the whole story of the hoax. As I have said, he did not stay, leaving in about ten minutes.’ Tanner rose. ‘Thank you, Miss Drew. That is all I want to know. I am sorry for having come on unpleasant business, and exceedingly grateful for the way you have met me.’ She also rose and held out her hand. ‘I hope you will let me know how you get on,’ she said. ‘You may trust me,’ he promised, and bowing low, took his leave. As he walked slowly towards Austin’s villa, Tanner thought over the interview he had just had. He felt sure that the accounts he had heard of Miss Drew—that she was ‘a fine girl’ and ‘a real lady’—were true. He believed she was the kind of girl who would marry neither for wealth nor position, and the fact that she had consented to an engagement with Austin seemed to speak well for the latter. His thoughts turned back to the point about the alibi which still worried him—whether Austin had really been at the Abbey at the time he said. And suddenly a way in which he might test the matter occurred to him. The shoes which made the tracks Tanner had found had, so Austin had said, been bought by him in London on the Monday. He, Tanner, had got them from Austin after the inquest on Friday. If he could trace the movements of those shoes from Monday to Friday, would light not be thrown on the problem? Tanner thought it worth while trying. Not far from the door of Austin Ponson’s house a police constable was moving slowly along his beat. The Inspector went over to him.