'Just joking,' Campbell replied. But he was thinking: keys. The key to Walsall School all those years ago, and now here's another one. There's something very queer about this fellow.

'I use it as a paperweight,' the lawyer explained. 'As you might have cause to recall, I am an authority on railway law.'

Campbell nodded. Then he cautioned the man and arrested him. In a cab on the way to the Newton Street lockup, Edalji said to the officers, 'I am not surprised at this. I have been expecting it for some time.'

Campbell glanced at Parsons, who made a contemporaneous note of these words.

George

At Newton Street they took away his money, his watch and a small pocket knife. They also attempted to take his handkerchief, in case he sought to strangle himself. George protested that it was quite inadequate to such a purpose, and was allowed to keep it.

They put him in a light, clean cell for an hour, then took him by the 12.40 from New Street to Cannock. 1.08 depart Walsall, George thought. Birchills 1.12. Bloxwich 1.16. Wyrley amp; Churchbridge 1.24. Cannock 1.29. The two policemen said they would not restrain him on the journey, for which George was grateful. Even so, when the train pulled in to Wyrley, he lowered his head and raised a hand to his cheek in case Mr Merriman or the porter spotted the Sergeant's uniform and spread the news.

At Cannock he was driven in a trap to the police station. There his height was measured and his particulars taken. His clothing was examined for bloodstains. An officer asked him to remove his cuffs and then inspected his wristbands. He said, 'Did you wear this shirt in the field last night? You must have changed it. There's no blood on it.'

George did not answer. He saw no point in doing so. If he replied No to the question, the officer would come back with, 'So you admit being in the field last night. What shirt did you wear?' George felt that he had been entirely cooperative so far; he would henceforth give sufficient answers to questions that were necessary and not leading.

They put him in a tiny cell with little light and less air, and which smelt of a public convenience. It lacked even water for washing purposes. They had taken his watch but he imagined it to be about half past two. A fortnight ago, he thought, just a fortnight ago, Maud and I had finished our roast chicken and apple pie at the Belle Vue, and were walking along Marine Terrace towards the Castle Grounds, where I made a light remark about the Sale of Goods Act and a passer-by attempted to point out Snowdon. Now he sat on a low bed in a police cell, taking the shortest breaths he could, and waiting for the next thing to happen. After a couple of hours he was brought to the interview room where Campbell and Parsons awaited him.

'So, Mr Edalji, you know what we're here for.'

'I know what you're here for. And it's Aydlji, not Ee-dal-ji.'

Campbell ignored this. He thought: I'll call you what I like from now on, Mr Solicitor. 'And you understand your legal rights?'

'I think I do, Inspector. I understand the rules of police procedure. I understand the laws of evidence, and the right of the accused to remain silent. I understand the redress available in cases of wrongful arrest and false imprisonment. I understand, for that matter, the laws of defamation. And I also know how soon you must charge me, and how soon after that you must bring me before the magistrates.'

Campbell had been expecting some show of defiance; although not of the normal kind, which often required a sergeant and several constables to subdue.

'Well, that makes it easier for us too. You'll doubtless inform us if we step out of line. So, you know why you're here.'

'I am here because you have arrested me.'

'Mr Edalji, there's no point in being clever with me. I've dealt with far harder cases than you. Now, tell me why you're here.'

'Inspector, I do not intend to answer the sort of general remarks you doubtless employ when seeking to gull common criminals. Nor do I intend to respond if you set off on what our judiciary would dismiss as a fishing expedition. I shall answer, as truthfully as I can, any specific and relevant questions you choose to ask.'

'That's very good of you. Then tell me about the Captain.'

'What Captain?'

'You tell me.'

'I don't know anyone called the Captain. Unless you mean Captain Anson.'

'Don't try impertinence with me, George. We know you visit the Captain at Northfield.'

'I have never been to Northfield in my life, as far as I am aware. On what dates am I supposed to have visited Northfield?'

'Tell me about the Great Wyrley gang.'

'The Great Wyrley gang? Now you are talking like a shilling shocker, Inspector. I have never heard anyone speak of such a gang.'

'When did you meet Shipton?'

'I know no one called Shipton.'

'When did you meet Lee the porter?'

'The porter? A station porter, do you mean?'

'Let's call him a station porter, if that's what you're telling me.'

'I know no porters called Lee. Though for all I know I may have greeted porters not knowing their names, and one of them might have been called Lee. The porter at Wyrley amp; Churchbridge is called Janes.'

'When did you meet William Greatorex?'

'I know no one… Greatorex? That boy on the train? The one who goes to Walsall Grammar School? What's he got to do with this?'

'You tell me.'

Silence.

'So are Shipton and Lee members of the Great Wyrley gang?'

'Inspector, my answer to that is fully implied in my previous answers. Please do not insult my intelligence.'

'Your intelligence is important to you, isn't it, Mr Edalji?'

Silence.

'It's important to you to be more intelligent than other people, isn't it?'

Silence.

'And to demonstrate that greater intelligence.'

Silence.

'Are you the Captain?'

Silence.

'Tell me exactly what your movements were yesterday.'

'Yesterday. I went to work as usual. I was at my office at Newhall Street all day, except for when I ate my sandwiches in St Philip's Place. I returned as usual, about six thirty. I transacted some business-'

'What business?'

'Some legal business I had brought from the office. The conveyancing of a small property.'

'And then?'

'Then I left the house and walked to see Mr Hands the bootmaker.'

'Why?'

'Because he is making me a pair of boots.'

'Is Hands in on this too?'

Silence.

'And?'

'And I talked to him while he made a fitting. Then I walked around for a while. Then I returned shortly before nine thirty for my supper.'

'Where did you walk?'

'Around. Around the lanes. I walk every day. I never really pay attention.'

'So you walked over towards the Colliery?'

'No, I don't think so.'

'Come on, George, you can do better than this. You said you walked in every direction but you didn't remember which. One of the directions from Wyrley is towards the Colliery. Why wouldn't you walk in that direction?'

'If you will give me a moment.' George pressed his fingers to his forehead. 'I remember now. I walked along the road to Churchbridge. Then I turned right towards Watling Street Road, then to Walk Mill, then along the road as far as Green's farm.'

Campbell thought this very impressive for someone who didn't remember where he walked. 'And who did you meet at Green's farm?'

'No one. I didn't go in. I don't know those people.'

'And who did you meet on your walk?'

'Mr Hands.'

'No. You met Mr Hands before your walk.'

'I'm not sure. Did you not have one of your special constables following me? You need only consult the man to get a full account of my movements.'

'Oh, I will, I will. And not just him either. So then you had your supper. And then you went out again.'