The rest of his day was spent as harmlessly as even Kean could have wished. Fayre sat for a time with Sybil, who was up and dressed and so much better that the doctor had sanctioned her removal, by easy stages, to London the following day. The various members of the house-party were in and out of the room most of the time, so that, to Fayre’s relief, there was no opportunity to broach the subject of the murder. As he was dressing for dinner he received a visit from Bill Staveley. He was still in riding kit and had just returned from his call at Hammond’s farm. “I’ve got your times for you,” he began, “and I found out what car Gregg was driving. A very cunning bit of work, I may tell you, on my part! I’m beginning to think I’ve got a natural gift for this sort of thing! If you imagine I’m just a sort of Watson, my dear Holmes, you’re entirely mistaken.” “If you want real appreciation and encouragement let me suggest that you go and tell Edward all about it,” advised Fayre dryly. “Meanwhile, when you’ve finished wagging your tail, you might produce the proofs of your genius.” Lord Staveley chuckled. “So that’s how the land lies, is it? Was he very down on our little efforts? He always was a damned superior beggar.” “I kept you out of it, which is more than you deserve. What did you find at the Hammonds’?” “A brand-new baby, among other things, which was brought into the world by Gregg at eight-fifteen precisely, on the night of the twenty-third. They telephoned to him between four-thirty and five and he must have started almost at once and walked over to Whitbury for the car. And I’ve no doubt he used some language, too, considering what a beastly night it was. After that things get more interesting. You say he left Stockley’s at five-thirty. Well, he didn’t get to Hammond’s till close on seven. Hammond was quite definite about that. He was in a bit of a stew because Gregg was so late.” Fayre, who was busy with his tie, spun round with an exclamation. Staveley nodded. “That’s a fact,” he said quietly. “An hour and a half to do thirty minutes’ run. Of course, he may have called somewhere else on the way, but, considering that Hammond’s message was urgent, it doesn’t seem likely.” “What excuse did he give Hammond?” “None, I gather, but I imagine things were pretty urgent by the time he got there. He just said he was sorry he was late and they were all in such a state of nerves by that time that nothing more was said. It’s the chap’s first baby and he seems to have thought the world was coming to an end. Gregg left about nine, which would bring him home just in time to get the police call.” “Did you find out what car he turned up in?” “Stockley’s. Hammond knows it well because they take in lodgers in the summer and they use Stockley’s cars. I couldn’t very well ask him about the number, but he didn’t seem to have noticed anything unusual.” “I wonder if the carter could have made a mistake?”