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Updated: June 12, 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.
Mitchington, thoroughly taken aback by this candid statement, was at a loss for words, and again he glanced at Jettison. But Jettison gave no help, and Mitchington fell back on himself. "So you fetched old Harker?" he said. "What what for, doctor? If one may ask, you know." Bryce made a careless gesture with his cigarette. "Oh old Harker's deeply interested in what's going on," he answered.
And suddenly there was a movement amongst the watchers, and the master-mason looked up from his job and motioned Mitchington to pass him a trowel which lay at a little distance. "Something here!" he said, loudly enough to reach the ears of Bryce and his companions. "Not so deep down, neither, gentlemen!"
There had been six pills in that box there were five left. So Collishaw picked out the poisoned pill first! It might have been delayed till the sixth dose, you see but he was doomed." Mitchington showed a desire to speak, and Bryce paused. "What about what Ransford said before the Coroner?" asked Mitchington.
Mitchington?" she demanded as they drew near across the cobble-paved yard. "Somebody's been in to say there's been an accident to a gentleman, a stranger I hope it isn't one of the two we've got in the house?" "I should say it is, ma'am," answered the inspector. "He was seen outside here last night by one of our men, anyway."
The truth was at hand, and it was not going to benefit him in the slightest degree. He was beaten. But that was no time for philosophic reflection; already those outside were beating at the door. He flung it open, and the foremost men started in surprise at the sight of him. But Bryce bent forward to Mitchington anxious to play a part to the last. "He's upstairs!" he whispered. "Up there!
"God bless my soul!" he said. "You don't mean it, doctor! Why, how did you " "Wait a minute," interrupted Ransford. He left the room, and the two callers looked at each other. "This chap knows more than you think," observed Jettison in a whisper. "More than he's telling now!" "Let's get all we can, then," said Mitchington, who was obviously much surprised by Ransford's last information.
"Miss Bewery has just told me what her brother told her. What of it?" "I have just come from the police-station," said Bryce. "Coates and Everest have carried out an autopsy this afternoon. Mitchington told me the result." "Well?" demanded Ransford, with no attempt to conceal his impatience. "And what then?"
But he remembered that it was his own policy to keep pertinent facts for his own private consideration, so he said nothing. And Mitchington presently remarking that there was no more to be done there, and ascertaining from Mr.
He had been listening with absorbed attention to Jettison's theory, and he now rose from his chair and began to pace the room, hands in pockets, as if in deep thought. Suddenly he paused and looked at Mitchington. "This needs some reflection," he said. "Are you pressed for time?" "Not in the least," answered Mitchington, readily. "Our time's yours, sir. Take as long as you like."
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