“You people wouldn’t act,” he said to the inspector.  “You said there was no evidence, no proof, and I daresay you were right enough from the legal point of view.  But it was plain enough to me that there was some sort of conspiracy against my uncle’s life, I thought against my father’s as well, but I was not sure of that at first.  It was through poor Charley Wright I became so certain.  He found out things and told me about them; but for him the first attempt to poison my uncle would have succeeded.  Even then we had still no evidence to prove the reality of our suspicions, for Walter destroyed it, by accident, I thought at the time, purposely, as I know now.  It was something Walter said that gave Charley the idea of coming here.  Then he vanished.  He must have roused their suspicions somehow, and they killed him.  But again Walter put us all off the scent by his story of having seen Charley in London, so that it was there the search for him was made, and no one ever thought of Bittermeads.  I never suspected Walter, such an idea never entered my head; but luckily I didn’t tell him of my idea of coming to Bittermeads myself to try to find out what was really going on here.  He knew nothing of where I was till I told him that day at Wreste Abbey, then of course he came over here at once.  I thought it was anxiety for my safety, but I expect really it was to warn his friends.  When I saw him here that night I told him every single thing, I trusted the carrying-out of everything I had arranged to him.  If it hadn’t been for a note Miss Cayley wrote me to warn me, I should have walked right into the trap and so would my father too.”

The police-inspector asked a few questions and then made a search of the room which resulted in the discovery of quite sufficient proof of the guilt of Deede Dawson and of Walter Dunsmore.

Among these proofs was also a hastily-scribbled note from Walter that solved the mystery of John Clive’s death.  It was not signed, but both General Dunsmore and Rupert knew his writing and were prepared to swear to it.  Beginning abruptly and scribbled on a torn scrap of paper, it ran: 

“I found Clive where you said, lucky you got hold of the note and read it before she sent it, for no doubt she meant to warn him.  Take care she gets no chance of the sort again.  I did Clive’s business all right.  She saw me and I think recognized me from that time she saw me over the packing-case business, before I took it out to sink it at sea.  At any rate, she ran off in a great hurry.  If you aren’t careful, she’ll make trouble yet.”

“Apparently,” remarked the inspector when he had read this aloud, “the young lady was very luckily not watched closely enough and did make trouble for them.  Could I see her, do you think?”

“I don’t know, I’ll go and ask,” Rupert said.

Ella was still very shaken, but she consented to see the inspector, and they all went together to her room where she was lying on her bed with her mother fussing nervously about her.