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Updated: May 14, 2025
"He didn't tell you his business with the Duke?" asked Mitchington. "Not a word!" said the landlady. "Oh, no! just that, and no more. But here's Mr. Dellingham." Bryce turned to see a tall, broad-shouldered, bearded man pass the window the door opened and he walked in, to glance inquisitively at the inspector. He turned at once to Mrs. Partingley.
Partingley that he and the other man, Dellingham, spent the evening together?" said Bryce. "So we did but that was not quite so," replied Mitchington. "Braden went out of the Mitre just before nine o'clock and he didn't return until a few minutes after eleven. Now, then, where did he go?"
"That man who called himself Dellingham who came with Brake to the Mitre Hotel at Wrychester who is he? Where did Brake meet him? Where did he go? Seems to me the police have been strangely negligent about that! According to the accounts I've read, everybody just accepted this Dellingham's first statement, took his word, and let him vanish!
I got an idea that he'd recently come from some country where trees and hedges and green fields aren't much in evidence. But if you want to know who he is, officer, why don't you search him? He's sure to have papers, cards, and so on about him." "We have searched him," answered Mitchington. "There isn't a paper, a letter, or even a visiting card on him." Mr. Dellingham looked at the landlady.
Nothing here, you see, in the way of paper but this old book what is it History of Barthorpe." "He showed me that in the train," remarked Mr. Dellingham. "I'm interested in antiquities and archaeology, and anybody who's long in my society finds it out.
The evidence given in the first stages of the inquiry was all known to Bryce, and to most people in the court, already. Mr. Dellingham told how he had met the dead man in the train, journeying from London to Wrychester. Mrs. Partingley told how he had arrived at the Mitre, registered in her book as Mr.
All four went into a bedroom which looked out on Monday Market. And there, on a side-table, lay a small leather suit-case, one which could easily be carried, with its upper half thrown open and back against the wall behind. The landlady, Mr. Dellingham and Bryce stood silently by while the inspector examined the contents of this the only piece of luggage in the room.
John Braden, London. And that's the tall one's Mr. Christopher Dellingham also London. Tourists, of course we've never seen either of them before." "Came together, you say, Mrs. Partingley?" asked Mitchington. "When was that, now?" "Just before dinner, last night," answered the landlady. "They'd evidently come in by the London train that gets in at six-forty, as you know.
"Bless me!" he said. "Remarkable! But he'd a suit-case, or something of the sort something light which he carried up from the railway station himself. Perhaps in that " "I should like to see whatever he had," said Mitchington. "We'd better examine his room, Mrs. Partingley." Bryce presently followed the landlady and the inspector upstairs Mr. Dellingham followed him.
Aristide Pujol, 82, Rue des Capucines. And judging by the look of 'em I should say these shirts were bought there, too and the handkerchiefs and the neckwear they all have a foreign look. There may be a clue in that we might trace him in France if we can't in England. Perhaps he is a Frenchman." "I'll take my oath he isn't!" exclaimed Mr. Dellingham.
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