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Folliot smoked a while in more reflective silence. "Aye, well!" he said at last. "I suppose you haven't put these ideas of yours before anybody, now?" "Present ideas?" asked Glassdale, sharply. "Not to a soul! I've not had 'em very long." "You're the sort of man that another man can do a deal with, I suppose?" suggested Folliot. "That is, if it's made worth your while, of course?"
Glassdale! the man whom Harker had seen in Wrychester within an hour or so of Braden's death: the ex-convict, the forger, who had forged the Duke of Saxonsteade's name! And there! standing, apparently quite at his ease, by the Duke's side. What did it all mean?
"When I left Glassdale at noon," continued Bryce, "I'd no idea and I don't think he had that he was coming to see you. But I know what put the notion into his head. I gave him copies of those two reward bills. He no doubt thought he might make a bit and so he came in to town, and to you." "Well?" asked Folliot.
Glassdale closed the door and favoured them with a knowing smile. "Something else for you, inspector!" he said. "Mixed up a bit with last night's affair, too. About these mysteries Braden and Collishaw I can tell you one man who's in them." "Who, then?" demanded Mitchington. Glassdale went a step nearer to the two officials and lowered his voice.
I read the accounts of the inquest on Brake I'd have gone to it if I'd dared, but just then I hadn't made up my mind about seeing the Duke; I didn't know what to do, so I kept away, and there's a thing has struck me that I don't believe the police have ever taken the slightest, notice of." "What's that?" demanded Bryce. "Why, this!" answered Glassdale.
"First I ever heard of it, then," said Glassdale. "And that's a fact, too!" "He'd also a very close friend named Ransford Mark Ransford," continued Bryce. "This Ransford was best man at Brake's wedding." "Never heard him speak of Ransford, nor of any wedding!" affirmed Glassdale. "All news to me, doctor." "This Ransford is now in practice in Wrychester," said Bryce.
He had listened, with an attempt at a smile, to all this fiery indignation, but as Mary spoke the last words he was suddenly aware of something that drew his attention from her and them. Through an opening in Ransford's garden hedge he could see the garden door of the Folliots' house across the Close. And at that moment out of it emerge Folliot himself in conversation with Glassdale!
"Anything that seems to relate to his death and the mystery about it?" inquired Folliot. "I think so," said Glassdale. "Upon consideration, I think so!" "Ah and what might it be, now?" continued Folliot. He gave Glassdale a look which seemed to denote and imply several things. "It might be to your advantage to explain a bit, you know," he added. "One has to be a little vague, eh?"
The two callers looked at each other the detective nodded at the inspector. "Oh, well!" said Mitchington. "No harm in telling you, doctor. A man named Glassdale once a fellow-convict with Brake.
No he didn't come to Wrychester for any such purpose as that! But " He paused and gave Folliot a meaning glance out of the corner of his eyes. "Aye what?" asked Folliot. "I think he met at least one of 'em here," said Glassdale, quietly. "And perhaps both." "Leading to misfortune for him?" suggested Folliot. "If you like to put it that way yes," assented Glassdale.
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