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Updated: June 14, 2025
She had spirit and imagination and a continually rebellious desire to get out of Simon Crood's cage and spread her wings in flight anywhere, so long as Hathelsborough was left behind. She had told Brent plainly that she thought him foolish for buying property in the town; what was there in that rotten old borough, said Queenie, to keep any man of spirit and enterprise there?
Come now, are you an extraordinary one?" "I'll make a try at things anyway," replied Brent. "And I don't believe I shall lose that election, either." "You might have scraped in if you hadn't carried Simon Crood's niece away from under his very nose," said Tansley. "But now that you've brought personal matters into the quarrel, the old chap'll move every piece he has on the board to checkmate you.
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.
All relate to Corporation accounts and to the financial affairs of the borough. Several are blood-stained." There was a shiver of horror amongst the women present as the witness handed over a sheaf of various-sized papers, indicating where the stains lay. But the even-toned, matter-of-fact, coldly-official voice went on. "Later, I made a search of the prisoner Simon Crood's house at the Tannery.
Alderman Crood's house, big, broad, high, loomed up across him as the odours of the tan-yard at its side and rear assailed his nostrils. As he went towards it, the front door opened a little, and a man came out. He and Brent met in the light of a street lamp, and Brent recognized a policeman whom he had seen in the Mayor's Parlour. The man recognized him, and touched his helmet. Brent stopped.
"I'll say my say at the right time and place, Alderman Crood!" retorted Epplewhite. "This thing's going through! We'll find out who murdered John Wallingford yet there's no need to go far away to find the murderer!" Crood's big face grew livid with anger, and his long upper lip began to quiver.
But of course it was so he saw many things now. The anxiety to get the letters; the dread of publicity expressed to Peppermore; the mystery spread over many things and actions; now this affair with Mallett there was no reason to doubt Krevin Crood's accusation. The fragments of the puzzle had been pieced together.
And all that the Monitor powerful organ, Mr. Brent, very powerful organ! can do on your behalf and in your interest shall be done, sir, it shall be done con amore, as I believe they say in Italy." "Thank 'ee!" said Brent. "You're the right stuff." "Don't mention it, sir," replied Peppermore. "Only too pleased. Egad! I wish I could see Mr. Alderman Crood's face when he reads this poster!"
Since their first meeting in the Castle grounds they had met frequently. He was getting interested in Queenie: she developed on acquaintance. Instead of being the meek and mild mouse of Simon Crood's domestic hearth that Brent had fancied her to be on his visit to the Tannery, he was discovering possibilities in her that he had not suspected.
He's chairman of the Financial Committee too; and it was in financial matters that Mr. Wallingford was wanting to make these reforms you've mentioned. If there's anything known I mean that I don't know Alderman Crood's the most likely man to know it." "Alderman Crood," remarked Peppermore softly, "knows everything that goes on in Hathelsborough everything!"
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