Three Act Tragedy
“Satterthwaite stared at his friend in surprise.
“The ink stain? What do you mean, Cartwright?”
“You remember it?”
“I remember there was an ink stain, yes.”
“You remember its position?”
“Well—not exactly.”
“It was close to the skirting board near the fireplace.”
“Yes, so it was. I remember now.”
“How do you think that stain was caused, Satterthwaite?”
“It wasn’t a big stain,” he said at last. “It couldn’t have been an upset ink bottle. I should say in all probability that the man dropped his fountain pen there—there was no pen in the room, you remember.” (He shall see I notice things just as much as he does, thought Mr. Satterthwaite.) “So it seems clear the man must have had a fountain pen if he ever wrote at all—and there’s no evidence that he ever did.”
“Yes, there is, Satterthwaite. There’s the ink stain.”
“He mayn’t have been writing,” snapped Satterthwaite. “He may have just dropped the pen on the floor.”
“But there wouldn’t have been a stain unless the top had been off the pen.”
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