“One-two-three-four-five-six-seven,” he chanted. “Good! That will settle it.”
“Oh, I see,” said Inspector Aylesbury, standing strictly upright, his prominent eyes turned in the direction of the kneeling Harley. “One, two, three, four, and so on will settle it, eh? If you don’t mind me saying so, it was settled already.”
“Yes?” replied Harley, standing up, and I saw that his eyes were very bright and that his face was slightly flushed. “You think the case is so simple as that?”
“Simple?” exclaimed the Inspector. “It’s the most cunning thing that was ever planned, but I flatter myself that I have a good straight eye which can see a fairly long way.”
“Excellent,” murmured Harley. “I congratulate you. Myopia is so common in the present generation. You have decided, of course, that the murder was committed by Ah Tsong?”
Inspector Aylesbury’s eyes seemed to protrude extraordinarily.
“Ah Tsong!” he exclaimed. “Ah Tsong!”
“Surely it is palpable,” continued Harley, “that of the three people residing in the Guest House, Ah Tsong is the only one who could possibly have done the deed.”
“Who could possibly—who could possibly” stuttered the Inspector, then paused because of sheer lack of words.
“Review the evidence,” continued Harley, coolly. “Mrs. Camber was awakened by the sound of a shot. She immediately rang for Ah Tsong. There was a short interval before Ah Tsong appeared—and when he did appear he was wearing an overcoat. Note this point, Inspector: wearing an overcoat. He descended to the study and found Mr. Camber writing. Now, Ah
