Page:The Black Camel (IA blackcamel0000earl).djvu/102

“Haie, I seem in stupid mood to-night,” he sighed. “I am still at sea. Crystal is broken, watch has ceased to function at precisely two minutes past eight———”

“Permit me,” said Tarneverro. “I will be more explicit.” He took both handkerchief and watch, and with the linen always between his fingers and the metal, turned the stem of the fragile timepiece. At his touch, the minute hand moved instantly.

A flash of triumph shone in the fortune-teller’s eyes. “That,” he cried, “is more than I dared to hope for. The murderer has been guilty of a small error—it was very kind of him. He adjusted the stem so that the time shown on the face of the watch could be altered at will—and in his haste he forgot to readjust it. Surely I needn’t tell you what that means.”

Charlie gave him a look of enthusiastic approval. “You are detective of the first class yourself—give me credit that I noted same this morning. I can never cease to be grateful to you. Of course I grasp meaning now.”

Tarneverro laid the watch down on the glass top of the dressing-table. “I think we may be sure of one thing, Inspector,” he remarked. “At whatever hour the murder took place, it was certainly not at two minutes past eight. We are dealing with a clever man. After he had killed Shelah Fane he removed her watch, set the time back—or perhaps forward—to two minutes past eight, and then smashed the thing as though to indicate a struggle.” The fortune-teller’s eyes lighted; he pointed to the corner of the dressing-table. “That’s the explanation of the nick in the glass. He banged the watch against that corner until he had stopped its running.”