worth next time he caught him.”
“I don’t understand your attitude, sir.”
“Don’t you,” I said wearily. “You’re a young man. You’re zealous in the cause of right. When you get to my age, you’ll find that you like to give people the benefit of the doubt.”
“It’s not—I mean—”
He paused, and I looked at him in surprise.
“You haven’t any—any idea of your own—as to the identity of the murderer, I mean?”
“Good heavens, no.”
Hawes persisted. “Or as to the—motive?”
“No. Have you?”
“I? No, indeed. I just wondered. If Colonel Protheroe had—had confided in you in any way—mentioned anything. …”
“His confidences, such as they were, were heard by the whole village street yesterday morning,” I said dryly.
“Yes. Yes, of course. And you don’t think—about Archer?”
“The police will know all about Archer soon enough,” I said. “If I’d heard him threaten Colonel Protheroe myself, that would be a different matter. But you may be sure that if he actually has threatened him, half the people in the village will have heard him, and the news will get to the police all right. You, of course, must do as you like about the matter.”
But Hawes seemed curiously unwilling to do anything himself.