Sanderson laughed. “I should think not. Why need I have taken that wrench up to the hotel? And why should it have had blood on it, unless Amberley had hurt his hand on it—which of course he did? Why disfigure him—since that is your disgusting idea—with the wrench, with all those rocks there to use as a weapon?”
“It’s all a question of time and mist. You had no time; it was all you could do to keep the interval you spent on the road within reasonable limits, as it was. You couldn’t even risk taking the wrench down and washing it off in the ocean; you merely cleaned it as well as you could in dry sand. As for using the rocks, that was impossible; there mustn’t be a drop of blood up there, and you certainly didn’t dare carry the body down below. Of course you never dreamed that the garageman
