"Lieutenant," said Bray very sharply, "will you tell me--is it true
that your brother, the late captain, had loaned you a large sum of
money a year or so ago?"
"Quite true," answered the lieutenant in a low voice.
"You and he had quarreled about the amount of money you spent?"
"Yes."
"By his death you became the sole heir of your father, the general.
Your position with the money-lenders was quite altered. Am I right?"
"I fancy so."
"Last Thursday afternoon you went to the Army and Navy Stores and
purchased a revolver. You already had your service weapon, but to
shoot a man with a bullet from that would be to make the hunt of
the police for the murderer absurdly simple."
The boy made no answer.
"Let us suppose," Bray went on, "that last Thursday evening at half
after six you called on your brother in his rooms at Adelphi Terrace.
There was an argument about money. You became enraged. You saw him
and him alone between you and the fortune you needed so badly. Then
--I am only supposing--you noticed on his table an odd knife he
had brought from India--safer--more silent--than a gun. You
seized it--"
"Why suppose?" the boy broke in. "I'm not trying to conceal
anything. You're right--I did it! I killed my brother! Now let
us get the whole business over as soon as may be.
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