United States or Trinidad and Tobago ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"There is another room leading out of this," replied Robin, turning the torch on to the blue curtain covering the door leading into the office. "We'll have a look in there and then try upstairs. Manderton will give us warning if anybody comes down ..." So saying he drew the curtain aside and pushed open the door. Instantly a gush of cold air blew the curtain back in his face.
Why on earth should he of all men go out of his way to slander me to Miss Trevert, to throw suspicion ..." He broke off short and looked at the detective. Mr. Manderton caressed his big black moustache. "Yes," he repeated suavely, "you were saying 'to cast suspicion' ..." The eyes of the two men met.
Bardy, the solicitor, plump, middle-aged, and prim, with a broad, smooth-shaven face and an eyeglass on a black silk riband. In the background loomed the large form of Inspector Humphries, ruddy of cheek as of hair. Lady Margaret did not appear. Mr. Manderton slapped his bowler hat briskly on a side table and with a little bow to Mary walked to the desk. "Now," said Mr.
Parrish, since obviously nobody other than Mr. Parrish and possibly this unknown person was in the library block at the time. And I would further remark, Mr. Manderton, that, until the bullet has been extracted, we do not know that Mr. Parrish killed himself..." "No," said the detective significantly, "we don't!"
"You're a terror to the confirmed criminal, they tell me, Manderton," he said, "but you obviously don't understand that complicated mechanism known as the domestic servant. No servant at Harkings will voluntarily tell you anything ..." Mr. Manderton, who had stood up, shook his big frame impatiently. "Explain the rest of your theories," he said harshly.
There will not be occasion, I fancy, my lady, to probe any farther into the motives of Mr. Parrish's action...." "And are you personally satisfied" Mary's voice broke in clear and unimpassioned "are you personally satisfied, Mr. Manderton, that Mr. Parrish shot himself?" The detective cast an appealing glance at the tips of his well-burnished boots. "Yes, Miss, I think I may say I am...."
And he read from the telegram: "Mastertons gunsmiths sold last July pair of Browning automatics identical with that found on Parrish to Jeekes who paid with Parrish's cheque." The message was signed "Manderton." At that moment a man wearing a black bowler hat and a heavy frieze overcoat came hurrying out of the hotel. "Mr.
"Ah!" said Manderton, "you mean the door was locked when the body was found! Now, as to these voices. Were they men's voices?" "Yes, sir, I should say so." "Why?" "Because they were deep-like!" "Was Mr. Hartley Parrish's voice one of them?" The butler spread out his hands. "That I couldn't say! I just heard the murmur-like, then shut the passage door quickly ..." "Why?"
"I found it in the library," replied the girl, "on the desk. It had got tucked away between two letter-trays one fits into the other, you know." "I wondered how Jeekes had come to miss it," said Robin. "But when was this?" he added. "On Sunday afternoon." "But what were you doing in the library?" The girl became a little embarrassed. "I knew Mr. Manderton was suspicious of you.
"What's all this about blackmail being levied from Holland?" Then Robin Greve told him of the letters written on the slatey-blue paper and of their effect upon Parrish, and of the letter headed, "Elias van der Spyck & Co., General Importers, Rotterdam," which had lain on the desk in the library when Parrish's dead body had been found. Manderton nodded gloomily.
Word Of The Day