“I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” went on the lawyer. “As Templeton’s representative—he’s made me his executor—I’ll put an advertisement in the papers asking anyone who heard from him since he returned to England to communicate with me and tell me the nature of the correspondence. If a reference to this letter turns up, well and good. If not, it’s a process of elimination, and we can assume that the recipient doesn’t want to give it away. Let me do this—then there won’t be a question of the police having anything to do with it. I must run; I’ve only just time to catch my train. I’ll let you know the result.” CHAPTER XVII New Theories “You’ve just got to solve it, Bob, and you’re going to solve it,” said Mrs. Colson that night to her somewhat disconsolate husband. “And that for two reasons: first because such a wicked wretch ought to be punished, and secondly because you’re my dear hubby. So there now!” She gave him a kiss and took a chair by him in front of the fire. “I’ve got to begin all over again,” he said moodily. “Of course you have, dear. And what of that? You’ve ever so much better a chance now you’ve cleared away the hindrances. Now, let’s begin. We’re going to talk it over, Bob, and your wife is going to help you with her big brain—oh, ever so much!” “Well, I’ve got a week’s probation, so to speak,” he said, “and I’ll jolly well try. All right, we’ll talk it over. You shall begin.” She put her elbows on her knees and rested her chin on her hands. “First of all, then, let’s get rid of all the old theories. You’ve gone on the supposition that the murderer was near the spot all the time, haven’t you?” “Well, it looked like it.” “I know. Now, is there anyone else living there whom you could suspect?” By this time he had a mental category of every man, woman and child at Marsh Quay. He turned it over. “No,” he said, “only boatmen and labourers—and a retired parson who lives near, a very nice chap. Rule him out.” “Very well. Then we’ll begin by assuming that the murderer came from a distance.” “Frattenbury?” “Possibly. We’ll get back to that later on. Next point—the motive. Up to now you’ve thought it was to get the diamonds. Let’s throw that out; I’m sick of the diamonds.” “You wouldn’t be if you had ’em, dear. All right, then the diamonds shall go. Let’s say he was after something else.” “And that something else was Templeton’s life.” “Eh?” “Why not? There is such a thing as premeditated murder, isn’t there?” “You may be right,” he assented, “or Templeton may have been possessed of something else——” “That was worth taking his life to get! Remember _that_!” she said, lifting a warning finger. “People don’t generally commit murder for the sake of killing anyone, you know. Now, let’s get on. Let’s try and picture how it was done.” “I told you last night how I’d worked it out, dear. The murderer went on board in the dinghy——”