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Updated: June 10, 2025
"I was there at the time, sir," replied Owthwaite. "Did he come quite openly?" "Yes, sir. In a cab, as a matter of fact. The cabman carried in the machine." "Did Alderman Crood say who he was?" "Well, sir, to be exact, he saw me as soon as he came in, and recognized me. He said, 'Oh, a Hathelsborough lad, I see? You'll know me, young man. Then he told Mr. Jeaveson and myself what he wanted."
"Oh," he said, "have you been to tell Mr. Crood of what has happened?" "Just that, sir," replied the policeman. "He's Deputy-Mayor, sir." "I know," said Brent. "Then, he's at home?" "Yes, sir." Brent was going forward, but a sudden curiosity seized on him. He paused, glancing at the policeman suggestively. "Did did Mr. Crood say anything?" he asked. The policeman shook his head.
Mallett there will agree with me and Mr. Coppinger too." "Absolutely!" said Mallett. "Unreservedly!" said Coppinger. "Your cousin, sir, our late lamented Mayor, was much respected in the town," continued Crood. "He was the hardest-working Mayor we've had for many years, Mr. Brent." "A first-rate man of business!" observed Mallett. "A particularly clever hand at figures!" remarked Coppinger.
There's one thing in our favour. She doesn't know that Krevin Crood knew anything about it." "Are you sure of that?" suggested Brent. "Oh, sure enough!" affirmed Hawthwaite. "She hasn't an idea that anybody knows. So we shall get her!" "What about Krevin Crood and Simon?" asked Brent. "Adjourned," replied Hawthwaite.
He would show that the murder of Wallingford was deliberately plotted at Mallett's house, between the four men, on a certain particular date, and that Krevin Crood committed the actual murder on the following evening.
He looked round at the dark-walled, closely shuttered old houses about him with a sense of dull anger surely they were typical of the reserve, the cunning watchfulness, the suggestive silences of the folk who lived in them, of whom he had just left three excellent specimens in Crood, Mallett and Coppinger.
"How long have you known him?" "Ever since I was a youngster, sir always!" "Have you ever seen Simon Crood at Green & Polford's, your employers?" "I have, sir." "When was that?" "He came in two days after I'd seen the facsimile, sir." "Bring anything with him?" "Yes, sir, that typewriter before you." "Sure it was this particular machine?"
"What I know," said Queenie Crood determinedly, "is that I've got a natural talent for acting. And I'd get on if only I could get away from this place. I will get away! if only somebody would give me a bit of advice about going to London and getting you know getting put in the way of it.
Queenie and he had settled matters to their mutual satisfaction as soon as the row with Uncle Simon Crood was over, and they had already begun furnishing the house which Brent had bought in order to constitute himself a full-fledged burgess of Hathelsborough.
Pleasant-like, sir." "I see! Had Mr. Krevin Crood any papers in his hand?" "He had papers in his hand, sir, or under his arm." "And that was just after eight o'clock?" "The clocks had just struck it, sir." Meeking nodded his dismissal of Mrs. Spizey. It was plain that he was getting near the end of his case and his manner became sharp and almost abrupt. "Call Detective-Sergeant Welton," he said.
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