He had not known when the case started, had been unable to get to the heart of it, and was compelled to keep following trails which might help him, yet might prove to be blind alleys. As he drove behind the Morris, towards Aldgate, and presumably towards the centre of London, he reflected that during the past twenty-four hours Lorne had learned that Benny had not killed Draycott. At Manchester Lorne had believed that Draycott was dead, now he knew differently. There were other things about Lorne worthy of attention. At the moment of the returned visiting-card, the man had seemed to have qualities which could be admired but that was cancelled out by the murder of Myra. Whether she had played any vital part in the affair seemed unlikely. Lorne had told her to ‘go back where she belonged’, of course, and had sneered that she would be well-off and out of danger. Well – many a woman had left a good home to consort with a rogue; and more often than not such mésalliances went wrong.
