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Updated: June 1, 2025
"I have Mr. Burchill's address," said Peggie, with an effort. "He left his card here on the day of my uncle's death the address is on it. And I put it in this drawer." Selwood watched Peggie curiously, and with a strange, vague sense of uneasiness as she went over to a drawer in Jacob Herapath's desk and produced the card.
Their cold eyes and polite, yet almost chillingly indifferent manner had convinced Triffitt that they were just listening to something with which they were absolutely familiar. Never a gleam of interest had betrayed itself in their stolid official faces until he had referred to the fact that he himself was living in a flat next door to Burchill's.
They say that the proof that that conspiracy existed is found in certain documents discovered by Davidge at Burchill's flat, in which documents Barthorpe covenants to pay Burchill ten per cent. of the value of the Herapath property if and when he, Barthorpe, comes into it.
Police-like, they'll have watched the various seaports much more closely than they'll have watched London streets for Burchill. And Burchill's a clever devil he'll know that he's much safer under the very nose of the people who want him than he would be fifty miles away from their toes! No, it's my opinion that Master Burchill will reveal himself, when the time comes."
Frank Burchill's presence at the funeral obsequies of the late Jacob Herapath was of an eminently modest, unassuming, and retiring character. He might, as an ex-secretary of the dead man, have claimed to walk abreast of Mr.
Burchill's address and just have a word with him. Tertius, you had better come with me. And yes, there is another thing that I should like to have done. Mr. Selwood are you engaged on any business?" "No," replied Selwood, who was secretly speculating on the meaning of the morning's strange events. "I have nothing to attend to." "Then will you go to Mr.
Triffitt handed round the glasses and took a share himself. "Ah!" he said. "That's interesting! And where are you going, now if one may ask?" Davidge nodded his desires for his host's good health, and then gave him a wink. "We propose to go in there," he said with a jerk of his thumb towards Burchill's flat.
Stick to Triffitt, my son, and Triffitt'll see you all serene!" "Right-oh!" said Carver. "I'm on. Well, and what am I to do, first?" "Two things," responded Triffitt. "One of 'em's easy, and can be done at once. Get me diplomatically this man Burchill's, or Bentham's, present address. You know some Magnet chaps get it out of them.
From half-past six that evening, Triffitt, who had previously made some ingenious arrangements with the slit of his letter-box, by which he could keep an eye on the corridor outside, kept watch on Burchill's door he had an instinctive notion that Davidge, when he arrived, would be glad to know whether the gentleman opposite was in or out.
Tertius looked deeply distressed. "You don't think " he began. "I might think a lot when I begin to think," said Mr. Halfpenny as they slowly descended the stairs from the desert solitude of the top floor of Calengrove Mansions. "But there's one thought that strikes me just now do you remember what Burchill's old landlady at Upper Seymour Street told us?"
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