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Updated: June 1, 2025
Mr. Manderton shook his head dubiously. "Very ingenious," he commented. "But you go rather fast, Mr. Greve. We must test your theory link by link. There may be an explanation for Jeekes's apparently inexplicable lie to the young lady. Let's see him and hear what he says.
Very remarkable! Very remarkable, indeed!..." "Hm!" grunted Mr. Manderton, "not so uncommon as you suppose, Mr. Bardy, sir. Hendriks, the Palmers Green poisoner, typed out his confession on cream inlaid paper before dosing himself. But let's hear what the gentleman has to tell us...." This was the last digression. Thenceforth Mr. Bardy read out the confession to the end without interruption.
Greve!" he cried as Robin, who was back in the driving-seat, was releasing the brake. "Did you have the wire from the Yard saying I was coming?" he asked. "Probably I beat the telegraph, though. I came by air!" Then he tipped his hat respectfully at Herr Schulz. "This is Detective-Inspector Manderton, of Scotland Yard, sir," said Robin. The big man beamed a smile of friendly recognition. "Mr.
Manderton made an effort to retain his old air of rather patronizing swagger; but he seemed less sure of himself than was his wont. In fact, he appeared to be a little anxious. He walked briskly into the sitting-room and looked quickly from Bruce to Robin. "Mr. Greve," he said, "you can help me if you will by answering a few questions ..."
Tries the handle and hears a shot. "Now, sir," said Mr. Manderton briskly, "I should like to ask you one or two further questions. Firstly, how long were you out on your stroll in the dark?" "I should think about two or three minutes." "That is to say, if you left the house by the side door at 5.10, you were back in the house by 5.13." "Yes, that would be right," Robin agreed.
Standing by the door leading to the library corridor he found Manderton. The detective did not seem particularly glad to see him. "Good-morning, Inspector," said Robin affably, "you're early to work, I see. Having a little experiment, eh?" Manderton nodded without replying.
The man's tone nettled him exceedingly. But he confined himself to making a little gesture of impatience. "No, no, sir," said Mr. Manderton, very decidedly, "I prefer to think that the library door was open, left open by the party who went in to speak to Mr. Parrish yesterday afternoon ... and who knows more about the gentleman's suicide than he would have people think ..."
He looked up sharply at him with contracted pupils. "You took a certain interest in this young lady?" "Mr. Manderton," Robin spoke with a certain hauteur, "don't you think we might leave Miss Trevert's name out of this?" "Mr. Greve," replied the detective bluntly, "I don't!" Robin made a little gesture of resignation. "Before the servants...."
"The gong had sounded for tea," the detective went on imperturbably; "surely it would have been more natural for you to have brought Miss Trevert with you?" "I didn't wish to!" Mr. Manderton cleared his throat. "Ah!" he grunted. "You didn't wish to. I should like you to be frank with me, Mr. Greve, please. Was it not a fact that you and Miss Trevert had words?"
"She's gone to the Continent and left no address," he said quickly. "Ask him if Lady Margaret is there," suggested Robin. Mr. Manderton spoke into the telephone again. Lady Margaret had gone to bed, Bude answered, and her ladyship was much put out by Miss Trevert gallivanting off like that by herself with only a scribbled note left to say that she had gone. Had Bude got the note? No, Mr.
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