I judged from
Inspector Standish's benevolent smile that I was somewhat excited when
I spoke to him, and perhaps used many gestures which seemed
superfluous to a large man whom I should describe as immovable, and
who spoke slowly, with no motion of the hand, as if his utterances
were the condensed wisdom of the ages.
'Inspector Standish,' I cried, 'is it within your power to arrest a
man on suspicion?'
'Of course it is,' he replied; 'but we must harbour the suspicion
before we make the arrest.'
'Have confidence in me,' I exclaimed. 'The man who committed the
Greenwich Park murder is an Italian named Felini.'
I gave the address of the exact room in which he was to be found, with
cautions regarding the elusive nature of this individual. I said that
he had been three times in my custody, and those three times he had
slipped through my fingers. I have since thought that Inspector
Standish did not credit a word I had spoken.
'What is your proof against this Italian?' asked the Inspector slowly.
'The proof is on the body of the murdered man, but, nevertheless, if
you suddenly confront Felini with me without giving him any hint of
whom he is going to meet, you shall have the evidence from his own
lips before he recovers from his surprise and fright.
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