There's a plausible theory that culprits taken in the act are best examined in secret, one by one, in ignorance of all the evidence against them.
The wise method is to let them hear the evidence against themselves.
Nine times out of ten they will accept that as unanswerable, and strive to twist its meaning or smother it under a mass of lies.

But the truth they have accepted, as I have said, works just like acid and destroys their argument almost as fast as they build it up.

In the few cases when that doesn't happen, they break down altogether and confess.
Anyhow, Grim, who taught me what I have just written, refused to listen to their bleating until Narayan Singh first told in their hearing all that he knew about the night's events.

They were forced to sit down on the floor and listen to him like three coffee-shop loungers being told a story; and I don't doubt that the effect was strengthened by the Sikh's standing facing them, for the contrast was as between jackals and a lion.
Not that they were small men, for they weren't, or mere ten-dollar assassins picked up in the suk.

They looked well fed, and wore fine linen, whereas Narayan Singh was in rags and had lost weight in our recent desert marching, so that his cheek-bones stood out and he looked superficially much more like a man at bay than they did.
But their well-cared-for faces were lean in the wrong place, and puffy under the eyes.