“What do you think that means?”
Gavegan loomed. “Grand Central Station. Train at 10.30. And meetin’
there with ... M.”
“Plausible,” I said, and was unsure if I agreed or if I mocked. “I
suppose you know already who is ‘M’?”
He eyed me with omniscience. “That we don’t give out, sir. Even to a
distinguished friend.”
“But the wound, Gavegan! Have you looked at the wound?”
He was stupid. I prepared to tell my thoughts. Was it because or
despite that he was too stupid to receive them?
“The wound might puzzle you, I think, if you had studied more anatomy.
The man who dealt it did so from above, for it struck the right auricle
of the heart at an angle of less than forty-five degrees! How could a
short man do that to a man six feet one and a half? And how could any
man murder LaMotte like that, if LaMotte were not literally _baring
his breast_: parting his arms, even raising his arms (the muscle wound
shows that, besides) in order to receive the blow?”
The image of a victim coöperating with his slayer was too much for the
law. The discomfort of my analysis struck Mr. Gavegan as an impertinent
invasion. He barred it with laughter. I could see his thought in his
mouth and his eye.
“--These scientist cranks.”
I went on: not knowing, again, if my motive was to convince or was
bravado in the certainty that my man was beneath convincing.
“Gavegan, have you ever noted the subtle stigmata of the hypnotic
trauma?”
Gavegan grumbled.
“I’m afraid, sir, I’ll be havin’ to let you go. The Coroner’s cormin’
again. We always likes to be hospitable to the big doctors at the
Institutions, whenever we can help ’em in their studies.” He pulled a
huge silver timepiece from his vest, and went to the window, and looked
out.
I was immersed so fully, that even now my action did not make my mind
break in amaze from the rhythm of events. The big man was at the window
looking out: for he believed he had heard the Coroner’s car, and
doubtless this meant that his night’s work was over and he could go to
his wife. I moved unhesitant to an open door that led into a little
passage. A strip of blue carpet covered the floor. And naked-clear
there lay on it a white envelope which I picked up and put into my
pocket.