But other things went to the quarry also, for I had to look far
ahead. When we started on his motor cycle, after tea, to do some
work at the bungalow, I took a handbag containing my costume as
Giuseppe Doria--a plain, blue serge suit, coat, waistcoat and
trousers and yachtsman's cap. I also carried a tool--the little
instrument with which I murdered the three Redmaynes. It resembled
the head of a butcher's pole-axe, of great weight with the working
end sharpened. I made it in a forge at Southampton and it lies
to-day under the waters of Como. My bag I had taken on previous
occasions to the quarry, with a bottle of whisky and glasses, so
Robert thought it not strange that I should do so again.

We started for Foggintor and it was still broad daylight when we got
there. I had already studied the quarry and determined on Robert
Redmayne's resting-place. You will find him--and the suit of clothes
I was wearing that evening--in the moraine, where it opens fanwise
from the cliff above and spreads into the bottom beneath. On the
right, at its base, water eternally drips from the ledges of the
granite and here, two feet beneath the surface, he doubtless still
lies. The falling water smooths the slope and the earth descends
daily to increase the volume of granite sand and gravel above him.
The drip must swiftly have washed away any trace of my handiwork
and, even with these directions, it may be hard to find him.

Arrived at the bungalow, Robert's first demand was a bath in the
quarry pool. To this I had accustomed him and we stripped and swam
for ten minutes. You will perceive the value of this operation. His
clothes were ready for me without speck or blemish; and when we
returned from the pool into the shelter of the bungalow it was a