They naturally want to get hold of your cousin, innocent or
guilty."
"Which do you think he is, Mr. Gillingham?" said Cayley, looking
at him steadily.
"Mark? It's absurd," said Bill impetuously.
"Bill's loyal, you see, Mr. Cayley."
"And you owe no loyalty to anyone concerned?"
"Exactly. So perhaps I might be too frank."
Bill had dropped down on the grass, and Cayley took his place on
the seat, and sat there heavily, his elbows on his knees, his
chin on his hands, gazing at the ground.
"I want you to be quite frank," he said at last. "Naturally I am
prejudiced where Mark is concerned. So I want to know how my
suggestion strikes you who have no prejudices either way."
"Your suggestion?"
"My theory that, if Mark killed his brother, it was purely
accidental as I told the Inspector."
Bill looked up with interest.
"You mean that Robert did the hold-up business," he said, "and
there was a bit of a struggle, and the revolver went off, and
then Mark lost his head and bolted? That sort of idea?"
"Exactly."
"Well, that seems all right.
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