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Updated: June 8, 2025
Hawthwaite turned on the witness with an irate, astonished look; the Coroner glanced at Hawthwaite as if he were puzzled; then looked down at certain memoranda lying before him. He turned from this to the witness, a somewhat raw, youthful policeman. "I understood that you were never away from that door between six and eight o'clock on the evening in question?" he said.
Well, Krevin came along I recognized him well enough. He sort of loitered about, evidently waiting for somebody. And just as the parish church clock struck ten I heard the click of a latch, and the door in Mrs. Saumarez's back garden opened, and a woman came out! I knew her too." "Not Mrs. Saumarez?" suggested Brent. "No," replied Hawthwaite. "Not Mrs. Saumarez. But that companion of hers, Mrs.
Brent!" he exclaimed in hushed tones as he tiptoed nearer to the dead and the living. "What's all this? You found the Mayor dead you and Bunning? Why why " "We found him as you see him," answered Brent. "He's been murdered! There's no doubt about this, superintendent." Hawthwaite bent down fearfully towards the dead man, and then looked round at Bunning.
He wished that Hawthwaite had given him a hint, or been perfectly explicit with him. For there was Queenie to consider. And now, without further remark to the group of gossipers, he turned on his heel and went back to her and took her into the coffee-room and to the table which was always specially reserved for him. Not until Queenie had eaten her dinner did he tell her of what he had learned.
That's the plain truth about his movements." "I don't think his movements matter," observed Brent. "What does matter is what were the movements of the murderer, and how did he get into the Mayor's Parlour? Or was he concealed there when my cousin entered and, if so, how did he get out and away?" "Ay, just so, Mr. Brent," agreed Hawthwaite. "As to that, we know nothing so far.
Now you shall hear how circumstantial evidence, brought to a certain point, is of no value whatever if it can't be carried past that point. Hawthwaite has got his evidence to a certain point and now he's up against a blank wall. He doesn't know what lies behind that blank wall. I do! And I'm the only person in this world who does.
Marriner's laundry and make an exhaustive search of her books, lists, and so on till you get some light see?" "Mrs. Marriner has, I should say, a hundred customers," remarked Hawthwaite. "Don't matter if Mrs. Marriner's got five hundred customers," said Brent. "That's got to be seen into. If you aren't going to do it, I will.
Leave it until this Local Government Board inspection is over." "Why until then?" asked Wellesley. "Why, because, for anything we know to the contrary, something may come out at that which will dovetail into this," replied Hawthwaite. "The Inspector is coming down at once we'll leave this over till he's been. Look here, has Mrs. Mallett let this out to anybody but you?"
"Well, not so many nights ago I had some business in that lane, at a late hour I was watching for somebody, as a matter of fact, though it came to nothing. I was in a secret place, just as it was getting nicely dark. Now then, who should come along that lane but Krevin Crood!" "Krevin Crood!" exclaimed Brent. "Ay?" "Krevin Crood," repeated Hawthwaite.
He looked from Carstairs to the Coroner, and from the Coroner to Hawthwaite, and suddenly, while Carstairs was taking the oath, he slipped from his seat, approached Cotman, a local solicitor, who sat listening, close by Tansley, and began to talk to him in hurried undertones. Tansley nudged Brent's elbow. "Wellesley's tumbled to it!" he whispered. "The police suspect him!"
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