“Yes, Mr. Eversleigh, old Pongo as you call him. A very efficient gentleman and one that could have put anything through if he’d a mind to. I suspected him partly because he’d been the one to take the clocks into Mr. Wade’s room that night. It would have been easy for him to put the bottle and glass by the bedside then. And then, for another thing, he was left-handed. That glove pointed straight to him⁠—if it hadn’t been for one thing⁠—”

“What?”

“The teeth marks⁠—only a man whose right hand was incapacitated would have needed to tear off that glove with his teeth.”

“So Pongo was cleared?”