ouched. The crime
was never solved."

His voice had sunk lower. He had dwelt on each detail with impassive
deliberation.

"This week, Christine Manderson--without doubt the most beautiful woman
of the three--was found in that crooked garden at Richmond, if possible
in a more horrible condition than either of the others."

"You mean," exploded the inspector, "that the murderer of Colette
d'Orsel at Nice twenty years ago also killed Margaret McCall in Boston
ten years after?"

"I do," replied the low voice.

"And Christine Manderson here three days ago?"

"And Christine Manderson here three days ago. But this time there was a
difference. An unfortunate chain of circumstances provided clear
evidence against an innocent man--James Layton. I admit that as the case
stood you had no option but to arrest him. But in doing so you committed
the same mistake that your French and American brothers had committed
before you. They had looked for a motive, and could not find one. You
found a motive, and devoted yourself to the man with the motive. You
should have looked for the Destroyer."

There was something of awe in the silence that followed, like the hush
that succeeds the passing of a storm.

"My friend," said the inspector slowly, "what utterly monstrous thing
are you telling me?"

Monsieur Dupont turned to him a face of massive innocence.

"Is it monstrous?" he said mildly. "If a man is born with a longing to
kill elephants, he is a daring sportsman. If the longing is to kill
beetles, he is a scientist. But if the inclination is to kill men--or
women--he is a criminal lunatic. Why? If the desire to kill is not in
itself monstrous, the desire to kill a particular thing, whatever it may
be, cannot be monstrous. It can only be illegal. If it is dreadful to
kill a young child, it must be dreadful to kill anything young. If it is
cowardly for a man to kill a woman, it is cowardly for a man to kill the
female sex in any shape or form. Yet, what scientist allows the matter
of sex to interfere with the impalement of his beetle? Nor would he do
so if his hobby were to impale human beings. If he searches for a
beautiful beetle to kill, it only requires a broadening of his
particular outlook for him to search for a beautiful woman to kill.
There may be a perfectly sane and moral country in the world (although I
have never heard of it) in which it would be criminal to kill the
beetle, and scientific to kill the woman. I confes