"I can see Gerald Moville after he had accomplished his grim task making his way back to his car--the loneliness of this stretch of country would be entirely in his favour, more especially as it had begun to rain; I can see him driving along putting mile upon mile between himself and the scene of his crime. At one place he stopped--a lonely spot it must have been--where he disposed of his gruesome burden; then on and on, past the borders of Yorkshire, of Westmoreland and Cumberland and into Scotland, till he came close to the network of railway round about Paisley and Glasgow. Falconblane, a village tucked away on a lonely bit of country but boasting of a garage, must have seemed an ideal spot wherein to abandon the car altogether and take to the road, and this Moville did, trusting to the long night, and also to luck, to further efface his traces. Again I can see him wandering restlessly through the dark hours of that night, not daring to enter a house and ask for a bed, determined at all costs to obliterate every vestige of his movements since the crime. "Then in the morning he takes train for Glasgow, the busiest centre wherein a man can disappear in a crowd; in the train he takes the precaution of divesting himself of the motor coat, the goggles and the cap, but not of the grime that covers his face and hair. We know how he provided himself with a more suitable hat and coat; we know how all through his wanderings he kept up his broken English. At Glasgow all traces of him vanish; he has become a very ordinary-looking man, wearing quite ordinary clothes, and in Glasgow people are far too busy to take much notice of passers-by. "We can easily conjecture how easy it was for Moville to leave the country altogether. He had plenty of money, and it is never difficult for a man of resource to leave a British port for any destination he pleases, especially if he is of obviously British nationality. Money, we all know, will accomplish anything, and rogues will slip through a cordon of officials where the respectable citizens will be chivied about and harassed with regulations. Moreover, we must always bear this in mind, that the police were not on his track, nor on that of the Italian, for that matter. Moville was free to come and go, and you may be sure that he was quite clever enough not to behave in any way that might create suspicion." The Old Man in the Corner paused quite abruptly. A complicated knot was absorbing his whole attention. I felt thoughtful, meditative, and after a few minutes' silence I put my meditations into words.