"That is all very well," I said, "but, personally, I don't see that you have anything definite this time on which to base your theory. Both the men have disappeared; the police say that Vissio killed Moville; you assert the reverse, and declare that Moville deliberately dressed up the body of the Italian in his own clothes, but you have nothing more to go on for your assertion than the police have for theirs." "I was waiting for that," he rejoined with a dry chuckle. "But let me assure you that I have at least three psychological facts to go on for my assertion, whereas the police only go on two very superficial matters for theirs; they base their whole argument firstly on the clothes, watch, jewellery, and so on found on a body that was otherwise unidentifiable, and, secondly, on a blood-stained knife known to have belonged to the Italian. Now I have demonstrated to you, have I not, how easy it was for Moville to manufacture both these pieces of evidence. So mark the force of my argument," the funny creature went on, gesticulating with his thin hands like a scarecrow blown by the wind. "First of all, why did Moville suddenly declare his intention of leaving England? In order to look after his partner's affairs? Not a bit of it. He left England because of some shady transaction out there in Argentina which was coming to light, and because of which he thought it best to disappear altogether for a time. My proof for this? you will ask. The simple proof that his parents accepted his disappearance for a whole week without making any enquiries about him either in Richmond, or London, or the shipping company that controls the steamers to Buenos Ayres. Can you imagine that Sir Timothy Moville, having seen the last of his son on the Tuesday evening, would say and do nothing, when he was left eight days without news; he would have enquired in London; he knew to which hotel his son intended to go; some one would have enquired at Richmond whether the car had been left there. But no! There was not a single enquiry made for Gerald Moville by his parents, or his brothers and sisters, until after Topcoat had mentioned his name to the police and the latter had started their investigations. And why? Because his people knew where he was; that is to say, they knew--or some of them knew--that Gerald had to lie low, at any rate for a time. Of course his supposed death under such tragic circumstances must have been a terrible shock to them, but it is a remarkable fact, you will admit, that the offer of a substantial reward for the apprehension of the murderer did not come from Sir Timothy Moville; it came from one of the big dailies, out for publicity.