Part 17 (2/2)
Only one little point emerges, said Stute, and it's this. Young Rogers was apparently in the habit of bringing home a number of tickets for the Buenos Aires Lottery. He had them in a sealed envelope, and told this steward that he was always a bit afraid they would be found on him by the Customs officers.
'S' that all?
Yes. Our man tried hard to get anything further there might be, but Rogers had never told him what he did with the tickets in England.
Well, that's worth knowing, anyway, said Beef.
Everything connected with the case is worth knowing, said Stute. It is by co-ordinating all these pieces of information that we shall arrive at the truth.
There was a knock at the door, and Constable Galsworthy came in. There was an air of respectful independence about this big, finely-built countryman, with the ruddy young face and rather intelligent eyes, which made me inclined to support his claim for consideration as an efficient policeman, as against that of Constable Smith of Chopley, who had been almost ingratiating towards Stute.
Fawcett, the postman, is here, sir, he said to Stute.
Show him in, said the detective.
Fawcett looked a little embarra.s.sed as he took a chair. His encounters with Beef were usually less formal.
I want you, Fawcett, to think carefully. Can you remember what letters you have delivered for young Rogers lately?
Fawcett thought carefully. There was one, he said at last.
When did it arrive?
I can't say exactly. A day or so before he got home.
You didn't notice the postmark?
No. I didn't. If I had to notice every postmark on the letters I deliverwell.
Nor the handwriting?
No.
And you can't remember any others lately?
No.
None from abroad?
This query caused Fawcett to think carefully again.
There was one from abroad, he said at last, but I don't think it was for him. It was for Mr. Rogers.
When did that arrive?
Before the other one. I should say about a week before. I remember that because it was one of those thin envelopes what they use for air mail.
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