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Updated: June 1, 2025
When he heard his voice he said: "Good morning, Flexen. A young fellow of the name of William Roper will be calling on you this morning. I expect you know all he has to say already. But do you see anything to be gained by his making a pestiferous, scandal-mongering nuisance of himself?" "I do not. I will say a few kind words to him," said Mr. Flexen grimly. Mr. Manley thanked him and rang off.
Flexen kept him dangling his heels in his office for three-quarters of an hour before he saw him. This cold welcome allowed much of William Roper's sense of his great importance in the district to ooze out of him. Mr. Flexen emptied him of the rest of it.
Then he sent Hutchings down to the village to let it be known that any one who let William Roper lodge in his or her cottage would at once receive notice to quit it. He thought it improbable, in view of the general unpleasantness of William Roper, that he would be called on to carry out the threat. William Roper had already started to pay his visit to Mr. Flexen. Mr.
Major Arbuthnot is away for a month. I happened to be at the police station at Low Wycombe when your news came, and I thought it best to come myself. This is Inspector Perkins." Mr. Manley introduced himself as the secretary of the murdered man, and with an air of quiet importance told Mr. Flexen that Lady Loudwater had put him in charge of the Castle till her lawyer came.
Flexen quickly, pleased to find that the ferret-faced gamekeeper attached so little importance to it. "I suppose people about here see that." "They don't know about it. Nobody knows about it but me, and I don't tell everything I sees unless there's something to be got by it. A still tongue makes a wise 'ead, I say," said William Roper, with a somewhat vainglorious air.
Flexen made up his mind on the instant that he was going to learn from Elizabeth Twitcher exactly what Elizabeth Twitcher thought fit to tell him and no more, for all that he perceived that she was badly scared. He did not beat about the bush; he said: "You had a conversation with James Hutchings last night, about eleven o'clock, in the blue drawing-room. Did you let him in?"
Manley and signed by Lord Loudwater. The manager compared the signatures of every one of them with the signature in question, using a magnifying glass which lay on his desk. Then, triumphant in his turn, he said curtly: "It's no forgery." "Allow me," said Mr. Flexen, and in his turn he compared the signatures, again every one of them. Then he said: "As I said, it's an uncommonly good forgery.
Carrington, and he went to Olivia's boudoir to confer with her about the invitations to the funeral. Mr. Flexen was, indeed, little disturbed by the prospect of the coming of the newspaper men. A popular member of the chief literary and journalistic club in London, he would probably know them, or they would know of him; and he would find them ready enough to work with him.
"As to its being a murder, I've pretty well made up my mind that it was," said Mr. Flexen. Mr. Manley looked at him gravely: "You have, have you?" he said. Then he added: "About that knife and the finger-prints on it, if it happens to have recorded any: I've been thinking that you may find yourself suffering from an embarrassment of riches.
I suppose that some one saw him getting his cigarettes from the butler's pantry." "So that was the reason he gave you for being in the Castle," said Mr. Flexen. "Well, was it after or before you spoke to him that you heard Lord Loudwater snore?" Mr. Manley hesitated, thinking; then he said: "I can't remember at the moment. You see, I was downstairs some little time.
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