me," said Bell gloomily. "What's your opinion then, Mr. Fortune?"
"The primary hypothesis is that we're looking for an able, masterful madman. Therefore my opinion is that the whole thing will look perfectly rational when we've got it all combed out—grantin' the madman's original mad idea."
"Am I to go round London looking for a rational madman?" Bell protested.
"My dear chap, you could catch 'em by the thousand. There's nobody so damned rational as the lunatic. That's where he falls down. Do not be discouraged. He's logical. He don't keep his eye on the facts. That is where we come in."
"We've come in all right, but we don't seem like getting out," Bell grumbled. "I'm keeping my eye on the facts all right. But they won't fit."
"You're very hasty to-day, Bell," said Reggie mildly. "Why is this?"
"I can see that fellow's face," Bell muttered.
"Well, well! He's told us all he can, poor devil. We'll get on, if you please. Because Rand's away, it don't follow that Rand's the corpse. It might have come out of some other tenant's window. Know anything about the other tenants?"
"All most respectable, sir," said the inspector.
"My dear man, the whole affair is most respectable. Do get that into your head. I dare say we'll
