"As I drove in toward Westerhaven, I conned things over: and it struck me I’d be none the worse of seeing someone as soon as I could. My housekeeper was away nursing a sick relation, so no one could swear whether I’d been at home in the evening or not. If I could drop in on someone, there was always the chance of creating some sort of alibi. The bother was, I knew I wasn’t quite normal. That was only natural. But if I called on someone who saw me every day, they might spot that I was a bit on edge and that might lead to anything, you know. Then it flashed into my mind that Ringwood had come here lately. I hadn’t seen him for years. He wouldn’t see anything funny in my manner, even if I was a bit abnormal.
"I drove to his house, and there I had a bit of luck—a perfect gift from the gods. From a telephone message he got while I was in the room with him, I learned that Silverdale was out that night, one of his maids was in bed, and the maid wanted Ringwood to call at once. One’s mind works quickly, as I told you, and I saw in five seconds what a chance I’d got. I offered to pilot Ringwood over to Heatherfield. That meant I’d a perfectly sound excuse if I was seen in the neighbourhood of the house.
"I dropped him at the end of Lauderdale Avenue, as I expect he told you. During the run, I’d had time to think over things. There was only one solution that I could see. I had to get hold of these letters, cost what it might. I calculated that Ringwood’s visit wouldn’t be a long one; and as soon as he’d gone, I meant to drop into Heatherfield, silence the maid, and get the packet of letters.
"I must have run a bigger risk than I intended; for evidently I got into Heatherfield between Ringwood’s visit and yours. Can you wonder I was a bit pleased with my luck, when it all came out? I made the tourniquet while I was waiting about. Then I went up to Silverdale’s house, rang the bell, and asked for Silverdale. Of course he wasn’t there; but the maid knew me and let me in to write a note for him. Once she’d seen my face and recognised me, it was all up with her. One’s own skin comes first. I might have risked it if it hadn’t been that the drawer was locked and I had to burst it open. That meant leaving traces. And, since she knew me, that meant losing the game. So . . ."
He made a gesture as if using the tourniquet.
"I went home after that and destroyed these letters. Then I sat down to do the hardest bit of thinking I’ve done in my life. Time meant a good deal to me just then, for I had to have everything cut and dried before any questions were asked.
"Then the notion of a double game came into my mind. Why not follow up the cigarette-holder move and do my best to throw discredit on Silverdale. It was up to him to clear himself. That gave me the notion of anonymous letters. And obviously if I wanted any attention paid to them, I’d have to make a good start. That suggested giving the police the earliest information about the bungalow affair. If they got that from ‘Justice’ then they’d pay real attention to anything else he liked to send them. So I hit on the telegram idea as being the safest and the quickest. And, as a sequel to that, the obvious thing was to make a show in public of being on Silverdale’s side, so that you wouldn’t suspect me of having any possible connection with the anonymous letters."
"You overdid it just a trifle," Sir Clinton commented in a dry tone.
Markfield made a non-committal gesture, but did not argue the point.
"Then," he continued, "just as I thought I’d fixed everything neatly, this creature Whalley descended on me. He’d taken the number of my car at the gate and faked up a yarn about an accident, so that he could get me identified for him. He called on me and started blackmail. I paid him, of course, to keep him quiet. But naturally I couldn’t let him stand in my way after all I’d gone through safely. He wasn’t a very valuable life at the best, I gather.
"Anyhow, I got him up here one night—my housekeeper was still away—and throttled him without too much trouble. Then I took the body down into the garage, put it into my car, and drove out the Lizard-bridge Road a bit before tipping him into the ditch. I left the tourniquet beside his body. It was a specially-contrived one, meant to throw some more suspicion on Silverdale. I forgot to say that I borrowed Silverdale’s lab. coat to wear during the operation, in case of there being any blood. And I tore off a button and left it in Whalley’s hand. Then I put the torn jacket back on Silverdale’s peg, ready for the police.
"Naturally I was quite pleased to hear that Silverdale had been arrested. That was his look-out, after all. And he seemed to be in trouble over an alibi, which was better news still. The next thing was to clinch the business, if possible.
