It was
a masterpiece of villainy, and he carried it out like a master.
The idea of the will, which would give an obvious motive for the
crime, the secret visit unknown to his own parents, the retention
of the stick, the blood, and the animal remains and buttons in the
wood-pile, all were admirable. It was a net from which it seemed
to me a few hours ago that there was no possible escape. But he
had not that supreme gift of the artist, the knowledge of when to
stop. He wished to improve that which was already perfect --
to draw the rope tighter yet round the neck of his unfortunate
victim -- and so he ruined all. Let us descend, Lestrade.
There are just one or two questions that I would ask him."
The malignant creature was seated in his own parlour with a
policeman upon each side of him.
"It was a joke, my good sir, a practical joke, nothing more,"
he whined incessantly. "I assure you, sir, that I simply
concealed myself in order to see the effect of my disappearance,
and I am sure that you would not be so unjust as to imagine that
I would have allowed any harm to befall poor young Mr. McFarlane.
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