“Is this landlord likely to be at home now?” the inspector interrupted.
“He is at home, sir. I saw him as I came upstairs.”
The inspector took out his card. “Will you show him this and say that Mr. Thompson cannot be found. He disappeared under peculiar circumstances yesterday and, since he is not here, we must enter his room to see whether we can find any clue to his whereabouts.”
The man visibly paled as he read the name on the card. Then he rapidly disappeared down the stairs. Mr. Steadman looked across at the inspector.
“Queer affair this! What the deuce does the fellow mean by putting up at a place like this?”
“Well, he isn't extravagant in the living line!” the inspector said with a grin.
John Steadman raised his eyebrows. “Not here!”
At this moment the landlord arrived with the keys. Quite evidently his curiosity had been excited by the advent of the visitors to his lodger. Probably he had been expecting his summons. He held Inspector Furnival's card in his hand.
“I understand I have no choice, gentlemen.”
“None!” the inspector said grimly.