house, and therefore in Tommy’s direction. He had kept a vigilant eye upon him, having too many previous experiences of his errant temperament to be careless in that respect.
His deafness did not prevent him from perceiving very quickly the implication of the Inspector’s curiosity, which he appeared to regard as of a highly humorous complexion. He chuckled long over the idea of Tommy venturing into the study to make an end of his employer. “You be the fair limit, you Lunnon chaps,” he said, in appreciation of so good a jest, and long afterwards, when the somewhat discomfited Inspector had endeavoured to lead the conversation in other directions, he broke into a new cackle of laughter, and remarked as though confidentially to the cucumber he was tending: “They be the limit, they be.”
The Inspector left at last, having obtained Mr. Bulger’s opinion (for what it was worth) that, if Tommy had succeeded in leaving his post, his objective would have been the kitchen, not the study, and that his desire had not been for his employer’s conversation, but for that of Mabel, the kitchen maid, who was, to Tommy at least, a more attractive member of the community. But Mr. Bulger was emphatic that he had gone nowhere at all. The only time that he had shown symptoms of flight, Mr. Bulger had called him back, and that occasion had been shortly followed by Mr. Gerard’s appearance, and was evidently that on which his curiosity had been roused by the sound of the fatal shot.
Mr. Bulger also expressed a decided opinion (which the Inspector was to find general throughout the domestic staff) that Sir Daniel had shot himself, in doing which he had shown a sound idea of his own value. Mr. Bulger pointed out that this was one of the points in which man was superior to the animal, and still more to the vegetable kingdom, there being fruit trees of indifferent bearing which Lady Denton was unwilling to condemn to the axe, of which there was too little hope that they would make an end of themselves in the same way.
The Inspector was also informed, in the course of a long metaphor of considerable complexity but unmistakable meaning, that it is meritorious to stir the soil either for the insertion of a seed potato or the removal of the resulting crop, but that the disturbance of dirt when you have nothing useful to sow, or profitable to reap, may be a less pardonable activity.
It was a reflection which came at times to his own mind, as it must come to all but the most obtuse of those who minister to the blind and cruel impartiality of the law. He was aware of the conventional, and perhaps sufficient, reply; but he knew that it is difficult to state it briefly in convincing words, and—to a deaf man—he let the case go by default, and walked round to the kitchen to see what, if anything, might be learned there.
It is no mean tribute to his tact and adroitness that he was able to overcome the latent hostility with which his investigation was regarded—doubtless in their mistress’s interest—by the domestic staff. By these qualities patiently exercised, he was able to obtain a willing repetition of tales which had been fully told more than once before, and it was no one’s fault that they did no more than confirm the narrative and conclusions which he had had from Superintendent Trackfield on the previous day.
If the servants had any doubt of how Sir Daniel had died, it was evident that it was one that they were not disposed to develop, even in their own minds; nor was their loyalty to their mistress shaken thereby. Sir Daniel, their answers assumed, if they did not assert, had died by his own hand, and if the cook did not actually add “and a good thing too,” it was evident that she would have assented willingly to that proposition. Yet the Inspector had no difficulty in eliminating her as an alternative to the supposition of Lady Denton’s guilt. Had Sir Daniel been banged on the head with a flat iron in one of the back passages, it might have been a more doubtful matter.
He gained nothing by these enquiries beyond the elimination of the indoor staff from the meagre list of those on whom suspicion might reasonably rest. His acquired habit of observation caused him to be more than subconsciously aware that Mabel, like Tommy, seemed to be fond of sweets of an unusual size, one of which, like him, she had found some difficulty in disposing of while she talked; but he failed (for which he blamed himself some hours afterwards) to see that there might be any connection between this coincidence and the cause of Sir Daniel’s death.
He judged the results of the morning’s investigations to be of an entirely negative character; yet the implicit championship of Lady Denton which he had encountered among the retainers of Bywater Grange, both inside and out, must have had some effect on his mind, for he found himself much less willing to return to headquarters with a report which would confirm the issuing of the warrant for Lady Denton’s arrest than he had been when he had parted from her two or three hours before.
He did not see how an interview with Sir Daniel’s late secretary could alter the position in any way, in view of the excellent alibi which he possessed, nor what further enquiries could be made usefully in any other direction. The case seemed to be one to be placed before a jury, and which they must decide. Yet he resolved, even while he was listening to the cook’s somewhat voluble opinion of her late employer, that he would not return without giving Mr. Redwin an opportunity of explaining the threats he had been heard to make.
He asked the parlour maid to tell her mistress that he proposed to trespass on the hospitality of the house for another night, but that he might not be in till late, and took a pleasant two-mile walk to the Station Inn.
CHAPTER VI.
It was a warm walk under the midday sun, and Inspector Pinkey entered the empty dining room of the Station Inn with a slight sense of fatigue, sufficient to double the comfort of the armchair into which he sank, and with an appetite which considered that lunch, due to be served in twenty minutes, could not arrive too soon.
But though his body relaxed in the cushioned ease of the chair, his mind was alert and active, and he was quickly and quietly aware of the entrance of another guest a few moments after himself, who sat down in such a position that he was out of sight unless the Inspector should turn deliberately round to survey him, which he was little likely to do, being satisfied that he could introduce himself better over the table of the coming lunch, if he should think it advisable to do so.
Nor was the newcomer so entirely beyond observation as he may have supposed, for there was a fire screen in the summer emptiness of the grate—a glass flower-painted screen, which reflected with sufficient clearness to inform the Inspector that he was himself being surveyed with more than the polite and casual interest that a fellow guest might be expected to show.
A few minutes later, when the waiter had entered with a steaming calf’s head, and other dishes worthy of a larger assembly, Inspector Pinkey seated himself opposite to a man of something less than middle age, neatly dressed, and with an appearance of competence and self-possession. He had sleek hair, short and black, and dark eyes in a sallow long-nosed face, and the Inspector, expert though he was in such questions of identification, had some doubt of whether he might be the man he sought.
But it was a doubt that he need not show. He resolved to reveal himself, and, if it were not Redwin, he could turn the conversation so that no harm would be done.
He asked casually for a mustard pot that he did not need, and then added, in his less official manner: “Pinkey’s my name, but I don’t suppose you’ve heard of me before. I’d better give you a card.”
He handed one over the table, which Mr. Redwin (for it was he) glanced at without surprise.
“So I supposed,” he said sourly. “Something about Denton, no doubt? What do you want to know?”
There was a directness of approach here which could only be met in the same way.
“I hoped you might be able to give us information which would throw some light on the tragedy.”
“Why
