Part 3 (1/2)

Well, yes. It was the way he looked, and that. He was half crazy. I just said 'Who?' like that. But he shook his head, and wouldn't answer. Then I thought that p'raps he had not really killed anyone, only believed he had. So I said, 'Best thing you can do is to go and give yourself up.' I somehow thought that he couldn't have done anything in cold blood. There would be provocation, or something. I was already thinking how we should go about getting him off. You see, he'd often been in sc.r.a.pes before. He'd been to me many times to own up to something he had done. And we'd always managed to get him out of it. It never occurred to me that we shouldn't have a try this time. Only if . . . if it could be anything to do with his auntie. ...

Can you think of any reason why 'e might have gone for 'er?

Reason? There could be no reason, unless he was out of his mind. She's done everything for him.

Well, Mr. Rogers, I don't see that there's any cause for you to go connecting the two. We'll trace both of their movements to-morrow. I expect you'll find Mrs. Rogers coming 'ome as right as rain in the morning. No reason why she shouldn't stay in London if she wanted. . . .

But she's never thought of such a thing before. ...

No. Well, Don't you get anythink into your 'ead too soon. Mustn't go jumping to conclusions. Doesn't do in a turn-out like this. I shall 'ave to come along and arsk you all sorts of questions in the morning, about your nephew, and that. And by then I expect your wife'll be 'ome as right as a trivet. Now the best thing you can do is to go along and get some sleep. ...

Sleep? Mr. Rogers groaned as though he did not understand what sleep was. With all this?

I know it's a narsty shock for you. Your nephew and one thing and another. The Sergeant was trying to be soothing. Still there you are. And worrying your 'ead off won't 'elp you.

Suddenly a new idea seemed to come to the little man. Buthaven't you found out? Isn't anyone missing? You haven't found anything to tell you who it was that Alan . . .?

Beef shook his head. Nothink 'asn't come to light as yet, he said. But it will, in due course.

It's terrible for me, moaned Mr. Rogers.

Now come along, said the Sergeant, and clumsily took his arm. You've got to get some rest.

Obediently, but with a sort of vague looseness, Mr. Rogers walked towards the door.

Good night, Mr. Rogers, someone called. But he went out without answering.

Mr. Simmons yawned. But this new development had awakened my curiosity.

Do you really think it could be the old lady? I asked Beef.

I never jump to conclusions, said the Sergeant sternly. Nor vencher an opinion when there's not sufficient evidence. And now, gentlemen. ...

CHAPTER IV.

BUT BEFORE the Sergeant could leave us Mr. Simmons addressed him.

Are you going to leave him in the bar all night? he asked.

There was no need for Simmons to explain what was referred to as him.

Don't see why not, said Beef.

Oh, you don't? Well, I do, returned Simmons truculently. It's bad enough having a dead 'un in the house all night, without everyone who uses the bar knowing afterwards? that it was there all the time. Besides, even if the chap is a murderer and suicide and that, he's dead. And it's not respectful to the dead to leave them in a public. And how's young Harold to go about sweeping the place up in the morning?

As though convinced by these arguments Beef rose. Wot you want done with 'im then?

I'd like you to take him away altogether.

Wot, wheel 'im on my bicycle, I suppose? suggested Beef indignantly. I'd like to know! what more you want. P'raps you expect me to take 'im to bed with me?