The manager, as so often to-day, hesitated before answering the officer.
“I don't—I don't think so. No, no, I'm sure he was not. But why don't you look at the register?” This last in a tone of nervous irritation.
“Oh, he didn't stop in the house, but I thought he might have been in just the same.”
“And what the devil has this Mr. Sikes to do with the affair which you are presumably investigating, Inspector?”
Pointer did not seem to hear the question, as with quick steps he passed on up the stairs and went at once in search of the housekeeper.
“Ah, I was on my way downstairs, but perhaps you can save me the trouble, Mrs. Green—” he beamed at her, and she beamed back at him, for he was a good-looking man.
“When Mr. Sikes was here on Saturday last, did you see him speaking to Mr. Eames at all?”
The housekeeper looked a little uncertain of her ground.
“Well, sir, I don't know the gentleman you're speaking of—Mr. Sikes—I haven't ever seen him.”
“Not know Mr. Sikes?” Pointer's tone, though casual, showed his surprise.