United States or Iran ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"On my solemn word of honour," he said, "that's all I know about Sir Charles Abingdon." Paul Harley returned the other's fixed stare. "I don't doubt your assurance on the point, Mr. Brinn," he acknowledged. "I can well understand that you must be badly puzzled; but I would remind you of your statement that you were also frightened. Why?"
Naturally enough, this circumstance excited my curiosity and, distracting the woman's attention for a moment I asked her to bring me something from a table at the opposite side of the room I lightly raised this wayward lock and immediately replaced it again. "'Do you know what it concealed, Mr. Brinn? "I assured him that I did not.
But out-and-out quarrel no!" Again Harley found himself at a deadlock, and it was with scanty hope of success that he put his third question to the gloomy Scot. "Was Sir Charles a friend of Mr. Nicol Brinn?" he asked. "Nicol Brinn?" echoed the physician. He looked perplexed. "You mean the American millionaire? I believe they were acquainted.
Nicol Brinn led the way back from the lobby, through the small study, and into the famous room where the Egyptian priestess smiled eternally. He resumed his place upon the hearthrug. "Are you satisfied, Detective Sergeant?" "I am!" Stokes spoke angrily. "While you kept me talking, she slipped out through that study, and down into the street." "Ah," murmured Nicol Brinn.
Nicol Brinn of Cincinnati, who is at present in New York, opened his heart to members of the Players' Club last night. Our prominent citizen, responding to a toast, "the distinguished visitor," said: "I'd like to live through months of midnight frozen in among the polar ice; I'd like to cross Africa from east to west and get lost in the middle.
"Look here, sir," said the detective, suddenly, "the result of Mr. Paul Harley's investigations right up to date has been placed in my hands, together with all his notes. I wonder if you realize the fact that, supposing Mr. Harley does not return, I am in repossession of sufficient evidence to justify me in putting you under arrest?" "I see your point quite clearly," replied Nicol Brinn.
He fixed his gaze intently upon the sallow face of the American. "It was spoken by Sir Charles Abingdon." Closely as he watched Nicol Brinn while pronouncing this name he could not detect the slightest change of expression in the stoic features. "Sir Charles Abingdon," echoed Brinn; "and in what way is it connected with your case?" "In this way," answered Harley.
But up to the time that Nicol Brinn turned and proceeded in leisurely fashion in the direction of the Cavalry Club, the sergeant had not succeeded in attracting any attention. Nicol Brinn did not hurry. Having his hands thrust in the pockets of his light overcoat, he sauntered along Piccadilly as an idle man might do.
"If this were so he would scarcely have awaited a chance encounter to prosecute his inquiries, since Nicol Brinn is a well-known figure in London and Sir Charles had been home for several years." "Mr. Brinn may have said something after the accident and before he was in full possession of his senses which gave Sir Charles a clue." "He did not, Innes.
He was literally dragged away from the instrument." "I agree," said Wessex. "He had got into a tight corner somewhere right enough. But where does Nicol Brinn come in?" "How did he receive your communication?" "Oh, it took him fairly between the eyes. There is no denying that. He knows something." "What he knows," said Innes, slowly, "is what Mr.
Word Of The Day