sper.

The Chief Inspector let out a whistle. His eyes snapped.

"Just so. Capital. And your brother now, what's he like--a sturdy,
darkish chap--eh?"

"Oh no," exclaimed Mrs Verloc fervently. "That must be the thief.
Stevie's slight and fair."

"Good," said the Chief Inspector in an approving tone. And while Mrs
Verloc, wavering between alarm and wonder, stared at him, he sought for
information. Why have the address sewn like this inside the coat? And
he heard that the mangled remains he had inspected that morning with
extreme repugnance were those of a youth, nervous, absent-minded,
peculiar, and also that the woman who was speaking to him had had the
charge of that boy since he was a baby.

"Easily excitable?" he suggested.

"Oh yes. He is. But how did he come to lose his coat--"

Chief Inspector Heat suddenly pulled out a pink newspaper he had bought
less than half-an-hour ago. He was interested in horses. Forced by his
calling into an attitude of doubt and suspicion towards his
fellow-citizens, Chief Inspector Heat relieved the instinct of credulity
implanted in the human breast by putting unbounded faith in the sporting
prophets of that particular evening publication. Dropping the extra
special on to the counter, he plunged his hand again into his pocket, and
pulling out the piece of cloth fate had presented him with out of a heap
of things that seemed to have been collected in shambles and rag shops,
he offered it to Mrs Verloc for inspection.

"I suppose you recognise this?"

She took it mechanically in both her hands. Her eyes seemed to grow
bigger as she looked.

"Yes," she whispered, then raised her head, and staggered backward a
little.

"Whatever for is it torn out like this?"

The Chief Inspector snatched across the counter the cloth out of her
hands, and she sat heavily on the chair. He thought: identification's
perfect. And in that moment he had a glimpse into the whole amazing
truth. Verloc was the "other man."

"Mrs Verloc," he said, "it strikes me that you know more of this bomb
affair than even you yourself are aware of."

Mrs Verloc sat still, amazed, lost in boundless astonishment. What was
the connection? And she became so rigid all over that she was not able
to turn her head at the clatter of the bell, which caused the private
investigator Heat to spin round on his heel. Mr Verloc had shut the
door, and for a moment the two men looked at each other.

Mr Verl