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Updated: May 15, 2025
First a long letter to Macross in Glasgow, begging for the loan of prints of the photographs taken by the police during their visit, together with any details they might see fit to impart as to their observations and conclusions. "I have arrived so late on the scene that you have left me nothing to do," he wrote deceitfully.
But taking one thing with another there was a good deal of evidence against him, so they made up their minds he had done it; and Macross, when he arrived from Glasgow with his myrmidons, agreed with the local idiots, and took him off. I'm certain there must be a mistake somewhere, but so far it seems jolly hard to hit on it. I hope you'll put your finger on the spot."
"We heard of it this morning. The Glasgow people have sent their men up, but it will take them all day to get to the place. Inverashiel is on the West Coast, and not what one would call easy to get at. They ought to be there about five o'clock." "Who has gone?" asked Gimblet. "Macross has gone himself with one or two others.
"But for the interest of the case I should like to have a look at the photographs." He did not expect to get much help from Macross. Then he took from his pocket the pill-box in which he had stored the dust so carefully collected in the gunroom. He wrapped it carefully in paper, and addressed the small parcel to an expert analyst in Edinburgh.
"You have had Macross up here, haven't you?" he asked. "It is really disappointing to find the whole thing over before I arrive. I am afraid there is nothing left for me to do." Mark looked at him quickly. Was it possible he accepted Macross's verdict without inquiring further himself? "We are hoping you will undo what has been done," he said. "I look to you to get my cousin out of prison.
So I prevailed upon the new owner of the castle to leave me alone which he was the more ready to do since he had urgent need to be first in examining some papers of his uncle's which were in another room and proceeded to make a cast round the garden from which the shot had been fired, in the hope of lighting upon some trifle which had escaped the notice of Macross.
Gimblet was silent for a moment before this appeal. It was difficult to know what to say. He knew Macross well for a cautious, intelligent officer; if he had arrested Sir David Southern it seemed pretty certain that there was good evidence against that gentleman. On the other hand Lord Ashiel had seemed to think it likely that his death might wear an appearance calculated to mislead.
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