“Sure and he did—with the exception of a flash or two he let them take of himself.”
“And were you the little birdie, O’Brian?”
“Was I the which, Lieutenant?”
“Did you say ‘peet-tweet’ over his left shoulder as the flashlights went off?”
“Ah, sure now, sir, and I did have the door open a wee bit. I was just explaining to the boys that they couldn’t come in without your permission nohow, and it was then that the medical examiner came along and, hearing the talking, went outside to pacify them.”
“A modern martyr throwing himself to the lions. Except for the tea party, O’Brian, has anything happened down here?”
“Not a thing, sir.”
“Any of the servants been drifting around?”
“Only one old dame in black, and seven foot tall if she’s one inch. She came halfway down the stairs, took one dirty look at me, and then stalked back up as stiff as a poker. Her bonnet was on her head.”
“You don’t know who she was, I suppose?”
“That and I don’t, sir. She looked like she might be a housekeeper.”
“She probably was. By the way, O’Brian, just what was it the medical examiner told the boys?”
“Lieutenant, I could make neither the head nor the tail out of it. I’d been telling them myself that the boss upstairs was dead and that foul play was suspected, and they were hot after the medical examiner for a further word, and I’m damned if he didn’t give it to them.”