Mrs. Honeycott’s hysterical outbursts and confused explanations, and occasionally he wrote something down. His presence was calming and soothing.
Tommy finally got him alone for a minute or two on the steps outside, ere he departed to telephone headquarters.
“Look here,” said Tommy. “You saw the deceased turning in at the gate, you say. Are you sure she was alone?”
“Oh, she was alone all right. Nobody with her.”
“And between that time and when you met us, nobody came out of the gate?”
“Not a soul.”
“You’d have seen them if they had?”
“Of course I should. Nobody come out till that wild chap did.”
The majesty of the law moved portentously down the steps and paused by the white gate post which bore the imprint of a hand in red.
“Kind of amateur he must have been,” he said pityingly. “To leave a thing like that.”
Then he swung out into the road.
It was the day after the crime. Tommy and Tuppence were still at the Grand Hotel, but Tommy had thought it prudent to discard his clerical disguise.
James Reilly had been apprehended, and was in custody. His solicitor, Mr. Marvell, had just finished a lengthy conversation with Tommy on the subject of the crime.