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Updated: May 5, 2025
Both police officers took in the contents of the room with the glance of trained observers, and both noticed that, prominent among the ornaments on the mantelpiece, stood a photograph of the late Sir Horace Fewbanks in a handsome silver frame. The photograph made it easy for Inspector Chippenfield to enter upon the object of the visit of himself and his subordinate to the flat.
Inspector Chippenfield hesitated a moment as if in deep thought. The object of his hesitation was to give Flack an opportunity of imparting any information that had come to him while on guard. The inspector believed in encouraging people to impart information but regarded it as subversive of the respect due to him to appear to be in need of any.
Rolfe assured his superior of his conviction that the pay at Scotland Yard ought to be higher for all ranks especially the rank and file. He also declared that he was ready to do his best to thwart Crewe. "That is the right spirit," commented Inspector Chippenfield approvingly. "Of course we'll tell him we're willing to help him all we can, and of course hell tell us we can depend on his help.
"And you parted on good terms?" "Yes, on very good terms." She met his glance frankly. Inspector Chippenfield was silent for a moment. Then, fixing his fiercest stare on the girl, he remarked abruptly: "Where's Birchill?" "Birchill?" She endeavoured to appear surprised, but her sudden pallor betrayed her inward anxiety at the question. "I I don't know who you mean."
"If anyone can get to the bottom of it, you can," said Rolfe, who believed with Voltaire that speech was given us in order to enable us to conceal our thoughts. Inspector Chippenfield was so astonished at this handsome compliment that he began to think he had underrated Rolfe's powers of discernment. His tone of cold official superiority immediately thawed.
"I often thought that he was our man, and that he was playing with you I mean with us." Inspector Chippenfield had betrayed surprise at the news by dropping his pen on the official report he was preparing. But it was in his usual tone of cold official superiority that he replied: "Do you mean that Hill, the principal witness in the Riversbrook murder trial, has disappeared from London?"
The gang got frightened and cleared out. They left her in the lurch, but she wouldn't give one of them away." "It was Holymead who defended her," said Chippenfield. "It was a strange thing for him to do leading barristers don't like touching criminal cases, because, as a rule, there is little money and less credit to be got out of them. But Holymead did some queer things at times, as you know.
The journal hinted that it was the result of something which Counsel for the defence had let drop at this trial that Inspector Chippenfield had picked up the clue which had led to Holymead's arrest.
But the letters formed words, and the words read: SIR HORACE FEWBANKS WAS MURDERED LAST NIGHT "Hallo!" "Is that you, Inspector Chippenfield?" "Yes. That you, Seldon? Have you heard anything of a murder out your way?" "Can't say that I have. Have you?" "Yes. We have information that Sir Horace Fewbanks has been murdered shot." "Mr. Justice Fewbanks shot murdered!"
"You are quite sure as to the time?" "I heard one of the big clocks striking as he was getting into my cab." Taylor took his departure, and Crewe, after wrapping up the left-hand glove which he had to return to Inspector Chippenfield, put the other one in his safe. "We are getting on," he said in a pleased tone. "This means a trip to Scotland, but I'll wait until the inquest is over."
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