Part 10 (2/2)

All right. That'll do.

Out in the damp evening, Beef pondered. Funny, 'is not 'aving told 'is uncle and aunt 'e was going to 'ave dinner wiv Fairfax.

Unless it was because old Rogers didn't like Fairfax, you remember what Mrs. Rogers said.

Yes. So she did, said Beef.

CHAPTER VIII.

I WAS determined not to be left out of the case now, even if Detective-Inspector Stute was going to take it up. So that next morning I went round to the police station, asked for the Sergeant, and was shewn in to the office in which he and Stute were already in conference.

There was, of course, no reason why I should be admitted, but my reading of detective novels, which had been considerable, had taught me that an outsider, with no particular excuse, was often welcomed on these occasions, especially if he had the gift of native fatuity, and could ask ludicrous questions at the right moment, so I hoped for the best. Beef introduced me without explanation, Stute nodded amicably and indicated a chair, and I was at home. That, I thought, is one good thing that writers of detective novels have donetaught Scotland Yard to admit miscellaneous, strangers to their, most secret conclaves.

Stute was a well-dressed man in his fifties, with thick grey hair, a young man's complexion, and a neat military moustache. He might have been, and probably was, an ex-officer. He might have been, but probably wasn't, a graduate of Oxford or Cambridge. He was listening to Beef with close attention, and the Sergeant was evidently finis.h.i.+ng his recital.

So that's as far's I've got, sir, he said. I'm very glad you've come. Course, you'll soon clear it all up, but I could see from the beginning it was too much for me.

It didn't sound too much, Sergeant, said Stute. We thought the body would turn up at once. But there you are. We must get down to it.

He leant back in his chair, offered us cigarettes, drew slowly at one himself, then said, It seems pretty certain that the murder was committed between 2.15 when Fairfax and Young Rogers left the Mitre and 8.0 when he reached his home.

Beef said nothing. He evidently thought his best policy was to leave all speculation and summary to Stute.

Then again, so far as the information you have brought to light goes, there are three possibilities in the matter of who has been murderedFairfax, the girl Smythe, and the foreigner who came into the Mitre, unless, of course, this foreigner is to be identified with the one Mr. Townsend saw later. Probably as soon as we start making enquiries, we shall find two of them alive and well, and have a pretty good idea that it was the third. Get me the Yard on the 'phone, and I'll have the Fairfaxes traced right away. We shall have to get a little more information about the other two first.

Beef went to the door. Galsworthy ... he began.

What did you say? asked Stute.

I was speaking to the constable, sir.

You don't mean to say you have a constable called Galsworthy, Sergeant?

Yes, sir.

My'G.o.d! All right. Goon.

Galsworthy, said the Sergeant again, as though there had been no interruption, get Scotland Yard on the 'phone.

What we want here, said Stute, when Beef was sitting before him again, is system. First the dead man. Had the bloodstains examined?

No, sir.

Contents of the bottle a.n.a.lysed?

No, sir.

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