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Then Meeking, with a cynical laugh, picked up his papers and went off, and Brent, leaving Tansley talking to the superintendent, who was inclined to be huffy, strolled out of the Moot Hall, and went round to the back, with the idea of seeing for himself the narrow street which Krevin Crood had formally described.
"It is not a legal maxim, but a sound old English saying that murder will out," remarked Krevin quietly. "I think you may take it, Mr. Spelliker, that in this case, as in most others, the truth will be arrived at." "Ay, well, if all accounts be true, it's a good job for such as you that the Mayor is removed," said Spelliker half-insolently.
He went out then, and was away about ten minutes. Then he came back with Mr. Krevin Crood." "Came back with Mr. Krevin Crood. Did you see them come in together?" "I let them in." "Did you hear anything said as they entered?" "Yes, I heard Mr. Krevin Crood say that he wasn't dressed for dinner-parties. Mr. Mallett then told me to take Mr. Krevin upstairs and get him anything he wanted."
"Well, not so many nights ago I had some business in that lane, at a late hour I was watching for somebody, as a matter of fact, though it came to nothing. I was in a secret place, just as it was getting nicely dark. Now then, who should come along that lane but Krevin Crood!" "Krevin Crood!" exclaimed Brent. "Ay?" "Krevin Crood," repeated Hawthwaite.
Brent; I'll tell you who that chap is, for he's one of the queerest and at the same time most interesting characters in the town. That, sir, is Krevin Crood, the ne'er-do-weel brother of Mr. Alderman Crood watch him!" Already interested in the Crood family because of what he had seen of Simon Crood and his niece on the previous evening, Brent looked closely at the man whom Peppermore pointed out.
The Coroner leaned confidentially in his direction. "Mr. Crood," he said, "I think you're perfectly familiar with St. Lawrence Lane in its relation to the immediately surrounding property?" "I am, sir," replied Krevin. "Every inch of it!" "Just describe it to us, as if we knew nothing about it," continued the Coroner. "You know what I want, and what I mean." "Certainly, sir," assented Krevin. "St.
Somehow, Brent could scarcely think of Krevin Crood as a cold-blooded murderer, nor did it seem probable to him that calculating, scheming men like Simon Crood, Mallett, and Coppinger would calmly plot assassination and thereby endanger their own safety.
But you'll come across him before you're here long nobody can be long in Hathelsborough without knowing Krevin!" They left Bull's then, and after a little talk in the market-place about the matter of paramount importance Brent returned to the Chancellor, thinking about what he had just seen and heard.
In a desk in a room which he uses as a private office I found more papers and documents similar to those which I had found at Krevin Crood's lodgings. I produce these there are seventeen separate papers. All are in the handwriting of the late Mr. Wallingford.
Lawrence church?" "I am!" "Do you live in a cottage at the corner of St. Lawrence churchyard?" "I do!" "Do you remember the evening on which Mr. Wallingford was murdered?" "Yes." "At seven o'clock of that evening were you in your cottage?" "I was!" "Did Mr. Krevin Crood come to your cottage door about seven o'clock and ask you for the keys of St. Lawrence?" "He did!"
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