Colonel Menendez regarded it as the most significant episode of them all.”
“What! The bat wing nailed on the door?”
“The bat wing, decidedly. He believed it to be the token of a negro secret society which had determined upon his death, hence my enquiries regarding coloured men in the neighbourhood. Do you understand, Inspector?”
Inspector Aylesbury took a large handkerchief from his pocket and blew his nose. Replacing the handkerchief he cleared his throat, and:
“Am I to understand,” he enquired, “that the late Colonel Menendez had expected to be attacked?”
“You may understand that,” replied Harley. “It explains my presence in the house.”
“Oh,” said the Inspector, “I see. It looks as though he might have done better if he had applied to me.”
Paul Harley glanced across in my direction and smiled grimly.
“As I had predicted, Knox,” he murmured, “my Waterloo.”
“What’s that you say about Waterloo, Mr. Harley?” demanded the Inspector.
“Nothing germane to the case,” replied Harley. “It was a reference to a battle, not to a railway station.”
Inspector Aylesbury stared at him dully.
“You quite understand that you are giving evidence?” he said.
“It were impossible not to appreciate the fact.”
“Very well, then. The late Colonel Menendez thought he was in danger from negroes. Why did he think that?”
