“All murderers don’t make glaring mistakes, Mr. Bathurst, don’t you run away with that idea—if they did—Scotland Yard would have precious few failures to record. Take my advice—don’t you go relying on the human element for mistakes—_always_.” He took his hat from the rack and put it on his head. “I fancy we’re running into Assynton.” He looked at his watch. “A little matter of four minutes late!” Anthony uncoiled his length from the seat. “I didn’t mean that, Inspector! By the ‘human element’ I meant the people in the case—the circle round the dead man—the people we shall encounter—there’s always the factor of their personal psychologies. Do you follow me?” Goodall grunted as the train drew up. Darkness was beginning to suggest itself. A heavy figure emerged from the recesses of the booking office and presented itself to them—semi-important, yet at the same time—semi-apologetic. “Detective-Inspector Goodall?” he inquired. “That’s me,” replied Goodall. “And you?” He peered forward at the man that had met him. “Sergeant Clegg, Inspector.” He saluted. “And downright glad to see you.” “Thank you,” said Inspector Goodall. CHAPTER IX Mr. Bathurst Opens His Bedroom Door Inspector Goodall motioned towards Anthony and Peter. “These two gentlemen have traveled down with me, Sergeant Clegg. They have been sent for by Mr. Charles Stewart.” He introduced them. Sergeant Clegg was visibly impressed. “Pleased to meet you, gentlemen,” he announced—“though it’s a sad business, to be sure, that has thrown us together.” He turned to the Inspector. “I’ve taken the trouble to book a room for you, Inspector, at the ‘Red Dolphin’—quite an excellent place. What will you do—go straight there for now, and start work in the morning, or would you prefer to get into your stride at once?” He looked somewhat anxiously at Goodall as though he attached very great importance to his decision. “Tell me, first of all, what you’ve done, Clegg,” said the Inspector. “I was called to the case this morning, Inspector, and I interviewed everybody that might be termed ‘principals’—you shall have their facts almost verbatim—I’ve been polishing ’em up from my note-book. I’ve had ‘photos’ taken this afternoon of the body and of the library generally, so that poor Mr. Stewart could be taken away—and I’ve had the room fixed and fastened so that nobody can get into it.” He breathed heavily—weighed down with an acute sense of his responsibility. Goodall’s reply transported him. “Excellent, Clegg,” he declared, “excellent. I’m for the ‘Red Dolphin’ and supper, bed and breakfast.” “Very good, Inspector! What time shall I see you in the morning, then?” “I’ll be along directly after breakfast—say about half-past nine. I shall probably do much better if I approach the case in the first place with a mind refreshed from a good night’s rest than if I were to commence right now—make it half-past nine, then, Clegg.”