"Yes, I knew about that. Well, he can have it. But don't say anything to
him about that lace you found in the dead man's hand--or at any rate not
until you find out more about it. The glove he can have since it is
pretty obvious that it belonged to Sir Horace. We'll spin Crewe a yarn
that we are depending on it as a clue."
Crewe arrived during the afternoon to inspect the house and the room in
which the crime had been committed. There was every appearance of
cordiality in the way in which he greeted the police officials.
"Delighted to see you, Inspector," he said. "Who is working this case
with you? Rolfe? Don't think we have met before, Rolfe, have we?"
Rolfe politely murmured something about not having had the pleasure
of meeting Mr. Crewe, but of always having wanted to meet him,
because of his fame.
"Very good of you," replied Crewe. "This is a very sad business. I
understand there are some attractive points of mystery in the crime. I
hope you haven't unravelled it yet before I have got a start. You fellows
are so quick."
"Slow and sure is our motto," said Inspector Chippenfield, feeling
certain that a sneer and not a compliment had been intended. "There is
nothing to be gained in arresting the wrong man."
"That's a sound maxim for us all," said Crewe. "However, let's get to
business. I rang up the Yard this morning and they told me you were
in charge of the case and that I'd probably find you here. Can you
let me have a look at the original of that letter which was sent to
Scotland Yard informing you of the murder? There is a facsimile of it
in the _Daily Recorder_ this morning, and from all appearances there
are some interesting conclusions to be drawn from it. But the
original is the thing."
"Here you are," said the inspector, producing his pocket-book, taking out
the paper, and handing it to Crewe. "What do you make of it?"
Crewe sat down, and placing the paper before him took a magnifying glass
from his pocket. As he sat there, in his grey tweed suit, his hat pushed
carelessly back from his forehead, he might have been mistaken for a
young man of wealth with no serious business in life, for his clothes
were of fashionable cut, and he wore them with an air of distinction. But
a glance at his face would have dispelled the impression. The clear-cut,
clean-shaven features riveted attention by reason of their strength and
intelligence, and though the dark eyes were rather too dreamy for the
face, the heavy lines of the lower jaw indicated the man of action and
force of character. The thick neck and heavily-lipped firm mouth
suggested tireless energy and abounding vitality.
"At least two people have had a hand in it," he said, after studying the
paper for a few minutes.
"In the murder?" asked the inspector, who was astonished at a deduction
which harmonised with a theory which had begun to take shape in his mind.
"In writing this," said Crewe, with his attention still fixed on the
paper. "But of course you know that yourself."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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