"You are so hasty to-day. Bell. I haven't got a 'who.' Still anonymous is the slayer. But I'll swear I've got his character."
"Have you, though!" said Bell. "Tidy fellow! Don't make a mess! Remember that face?"
"Oh, I said he was mad."
"Well, I'm not yet. I'm only feeling what I can feel." He began to examine the burnt paper. "Letters mostly. Some stoutish paper. Some stuff looks a bit like a note-book. That's all we'll get out of that."
"Well, except the one thing. Whoever did that was clearing up. Clearing up something that might have left traces that might have been dangerous. Same like he cleared up the dead man's face. Don't you see? Somebody and some affair had to be absolutely abolished."
"Yes. What was it?"
"We mayn't ever know that," said Reggie slowly.
"I believe you," said Bell, and laughed. "I feel that, sir."
The inspector and he began to examine the room in detail, opening drawers and cupboards. But except for tobacco and spirits they found no trace of Mr. Rand. Nothing had been broken open, but nothing was locked. "No keys on the deceased, were there, Mr. Fortune?" said Bell suddenly. "And that's a point, too. Very few men go about without any keys."
