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Updated: June 29, 2025
During the interval which elapsed between these early morning proceedings and the bringing up of Harborough before the borough magistrates in a densely-packed court, Brereton made up his mind as to what he would do. He would act on Avice Harborough's suggestion, and, while watching the trend of affairs on behalf of the suspected man, would find out all he could about the murdered one.
"To John Harborough's cottage at the other end of the hill," answered Bent. "He's the man they spoke of in there. He's a queer character a professional pig-killer, who has other trades as well. He does a bit of rat-catching, and a bit of mole-catching and a good deal of poaching. In fact, he's an odd person altogether, not only in character but in appearance.
Even with this ray of hope for guidance, it never seemed to occur to any one to storm Johnson's fortress, and rescue the imprisoned volume; but after the Doctor's death, two years later, Cradock made a formal application to the executors; and Lord Harborough's property was discovered under the inkstand, unopened, unread, and consequently, as by a happy miracle, uninjured.
I don't want to do Miss Pett any injustice, but I say that there are grounds for suspecting her and they may be widened." "Then it comes to this," said Bent. "There are two people under suspicion: Harborough's suspected by the police Miss Pett's suspected by you. And it may be, and probably is, the truth that both are entirely innocent. In that case, who's the guilty person?"
But when they came to Harborough's cottage, at the far end of the Shawl, it was all in darkness. "Still, they aren't gone to bed," suddenly observed the policeman who had a faculty for seeing things. "There's a good fire burning in the kitchen grate, and they wouldn't leave that. Must be out, both of 'em." "Go in and knock quietly," counselled the sergeant.
Mayor, that Harborough's not a man that's ever been in want of money. It's the belief of a good many folks in the town that he has money of his own: he's always been a bit of a mystery ever since I can remember. He could afford to give that daughter of his a good education good as a young lady gets and he spends plenty, and I never heard of him owing aught.
Now you get your men together this is no time for sleeping. You ought to have men up at the Shawl now." "I've left one man at Kitely's cottage, sir, and another about Harborough's in case Harborough should come back during the night," said the sergeant. "We've two more constables close by the station. I'll get them up." "Do it just now," commanded Mallalieu. "I'll be back in a while."
That question was beginning to engross all his attention: he thought more about it than about his schemes for a successful defence of Harborough, well knowing that his best way of proving Harborough's innocence lay in establishing another man's guilt.
Of course Cotherstone knew all about Harborough's arrangements he would often pass the pig-killer's house from the hedge of the garden he would have seen the coils of greased rope hanging from their nails under the verandah roof, aye, a thousand times.
"Nobody but a fool would have cut that piece of cord off, left it round the man's neck, and left the coil hanging where anybody could find it. And that man Harborough's no fool! This isn't his job, Bent. No!" "Whose, then?" asked Bent. Mallalieu suddenly drank off the contents of his glass and rose. "As I'm chief magistrate, I'd better go down to see the police," he said.
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