Part 39 (1/2)

”If the name's Parker, would you mind asking the servant--in here?”

A gesture supplied the words he had omitted in his sentence. He held the door open so that Gladys could speak to the maid who was coming along the hall. She did so, also in lowered tones.

”If that's a person of the name of Parker show him at once in here.”

She withdrew; the inspector shut the door; there was a pause; no one spoke; each of the three stood and listened. They could hear the front door opened and steps coming along the hall. Then the dining-room door was opened by a maid, who announced:

”Mr. Parker.”

There entered the little man who had followed the example set by Rodney of getting out of the train in Redhill Tunnel.

CHAPTER XXIII

NECESSARY CREDENTIALS

The moment he appeared Rodney knew that he had been expecting him; that somewhere at the back of his mind there had been a feeling that it was he who was coming. His impulse was to take him by the throat and crush the life out of him before he had a chance of saying a word; which was the impulse of a badly frightened man. But he seldom lost his presence of mind for long; and, on that occasion, he had it again almost as soon as it had gone; indeed, within the same second he was smiling at himself for having allowed himself to be disposed towards such cra.s.s folly.

So far as Rodney was able to judge the little man was clad just as he had been on Sunday evening--in the same shabby tweed suit, the old unbrushed boots, with the same suggestion about him that he might easily have been improved by a more intimate acquaintance with soap and water. He had his hat in one hand, and with the other he rubbed his scrubby chin. No one could have seemed more at his ease. Without offering any sort of greeting he immediately proceeded to address the inspector, while the maid was still closing the door, in that thin, unmusical, penetrating voice which Rodney had so much disliked.

”So you are there, Harlow, are you? I wondered if you'd have sense enough to come.”

He rounded off his sentence with the sn.i.g.g.e.r which had so jarred on the young man's sensitive nerves, and which affected Gladys so unpleasantly that, with what seemed to be a start of repulsion, she moved closer to her lover's side. The stranger noted the movement, and commented on it--again with the uncomfortable sn.i.g.g.e.r.

”That's right; get as close as you can; he'll keep you safe; anyone will be safe who gets close enough to him. You're Miss Patterson; I could tell you anywhere by your likeness to your father. You're not the kind of girl I care about, any more than he was the kind of man.

Who's the youngster? Now, there is someone worth looking at; why, he's as handsome as paint, and of quite unusual force of character for so young a man. Miss Patterson, the girl who gets him for a lover will have a lover of a kind of which she has no notion. He's a most remarkable young man.”

”With a view, perhaps, of checking the stranger's volubility, the inspector administered what was possibly meant for a rebuke.

”If you would confine yourself to the business which has brought you here, sir, it would be as well. Are you Mr. Parker?”

”I am; Philip Walter Augustus Parker--a lot of name for a man of my size.”

”You sent me a letter last night from Beckenham?”

”I did.”

”Stating that Mr. Graham Patterson did not commit suicide.”

”Exactly.”

”But was murdered?”

”He was.”

”You went on to say that if I were here this afternoon you would point out to me the murderer.”

”I will.”