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Updated: May 9, 2025
"Just at present, I think we'd better return to the subject of Hamilton Fynes." Mr. Richard Vanderpole sighed, but seemed not disinclined to follow her suggestion. "Harvey is a silent man, as you know," he said thoughtfully, "and he keeps everything of importance to himself.
Vanderpole glanced at the clock and whistled softly to himself. "Tell you what!" he exclaimed, "I'll write a note to one of the friends I've got to meet, and leave it here. Boy," he added, turning to a page boy, "get me a taxi as quick as you can."
Vanderpole had called at the Savoy Hotel upon a travelling American, who had written to the Embassy asking for some advice as to introducing American patents into Great Britain and France. He left there to meet his chief, who was dining down in Kensington, with the intention of returning at once to join the Duchess of Devenham's theatre party. He was in no manner of trouble.
Richard Vanderpole on the following day." "Say, your friend's got the stuff!" Mr. Coulson remarked admiringly. "My friend is not a poor man," Mr. Gaynsforth admitted. "You see, there's a sort of feeling abroad that these two things are connected. I am not working on behalf of the police. I am not working on behalf of any one who desires the least publicity.
Take the affair of poor young Vanderpole, for instance. The person who entered his taxi and killed him must have done so while the vehicle was standing in the middle of the road at one of the three blocks. Not only that, but he must have been a friend, or some one posing as a friend some one, at any rate, of his own order. Vanderpole was over six feet high, and as muscular as a young bull.
"To tell you the truth, we find it almost as puzzling an affair as the one in which Mr. Hamilton Fynes was concerned." Mr. Coulson nodded. He seemed content, at this stage in their conversation, to assume the role of listener. "You read the particulars of the murder of Mr. Vanderpole, I suppose?" the Inspector asked. "Every word," Mr. Coulson answered.
In a few minutes he returned to the bar smoking room, where the young man was still waiting, and handed him the letter. "Tell me," the latter asked, "have you been shadowed at all?" "Not that I know of," Coulson answered. "Men with quick instincts," Vanderpole continued, "can always tell when they are being watched. Have you felt anything of the sort?" Coulson hesitated for one moment.
Coulson," the Minister suggested smoothly, "it wouldn't answer your purpose to put aside that bluff about patents for the development of the woollen trade for a few moments, and tell me exactly what passed between you and Mr. Vanderpole at the Savoy Hotel, and the object of his calling upon you?
The taxi was on the Embankment now, and they sped along for some time in silence. Mr. Richard Vanderpole was more than a little puzzled. "Of course, Penelope," he said, "I don't expect you to tell me anything which you feel that you oughtn't to. There is one thing, however, which I must ask you." She nodded. "Well?"
"You have no knowledge of any common pursuit or interest in life which the two men may have shared?" the Inspector asked. "A hobby, for instance, a collection of postage stamps, china, any common aim of any sort?" She shook her head. "I knew little of Mr. Fynes' tastes. Dicky I mean Mr. Vanderpole had none at all except an enthusiasm for his profession and a love of polo."
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