“Have you anything to add?” asked the coroner, relenting a little, but still stern. If the worthy Canon had been feeling normal he might have said more. But he was so acutely concerned with what he considered an undignified situation that he merely remarked: “Nothing. Except that the brand is that of a particular cigar which I smoke myself.” It was here that the foreman of the jury interposed: “May I ask a question?” But the coroner, after a moment’s thought, said: “You may ask me to put a question if you please, but in the interests of the case I imagine the police would rather you did not.” And the Chief Constable, who had been in whispered consultation with the superintendent and Colson, immediately exclaimed: “Thank you. We much prefer that no questions should be asked. We consider this matter as strictly belonging to the police—at this stage of the inquiry.” “I think it does,” replied the coroner. “I shall hand over this cigar band to you, of course.” And he laid it on the table. There was one man who never took his eyes off it for a moment, and that was the detective, who put it in his pocket-case a minute or two later when the inquiry was formally adjourned. “You may stand down, Canon Fittleworth,” said the coroner stiffly. “Are there any more witnesses?” There were none. “You ask for an adjournment,” said the coroner to the superintendent, “for how long?” “This day fortnight, sir.” The coroner consulted his diary. “Will Saturday week do?” he asked. “I have a case in court on the Monday.” “That will do very well, sir,” replied the superintendent. The majority pressed out of the tap-room, Colson and Anthony Crosby being among the few who remained. The doctor, who had motored Canon Fittleworth over to Marsh Quay, was in a hurry to get back. As the latter got into the car, the superintendent came up and said, more in sorrow than in anger: “You ought to have given us that cigar band at once, really you ought, sir.” “I know I ought,” said the Canon, whose injured pride was beginning to thaw. “I’m sorry.” “I’ll call later on, if I may—or Colson will—we shall want to see your particular brand of cigars.” “Do!” But when Colson and the superintendent made a closer examination of that cigar band, they agreed that it might not be worth while troubling the worthy Canon. “These parsons aren’t much help,” said Colson sarcastically; “they’d best stick to preaching and not mix themselves up in our business. Bother the blighter! I say.” “I say—how did you manage to miss that cigar band, on the yacht?” asked the superintendent. “I can tell you exactly, sir. I made my examination while the body was on the floor. When they came to lay it out on the table I went on deck—I was still there when you and the Canon came aboard, you remember? I made a further examination afterwards, but that band must have been under Templeton’s body in the first place. That would account for the Canon finding it.” CHAPTER VIII