Roger shrugged his shoulders in mock despair. “And so should I! That’s what makes it all the more extraordinary. Yet of course she was lying. Like a trooper! And so ridiculously! Her story’s bound to be disproved as soon as the safe is opened. She must have said the first thing that came into her head. Alec, my son, there’s something damned queer going on here! Mrs. Plant isn’t the only one who’s lying. Come out into the garden and listen to the duplicity of Jefferson.”
CHAPTER IV.
Major Jefferson is Reluctant
Inspector Mansfield, of the Elchester police, was a methodical person. He knew exactly what he had to do, and just how to do it. And he had precisely as much imagination as was required for his job, and not a fraction more. Too much imagination can be a very severe handicap to a conscientious policeman, in spite of what the detective stories may say.
As the inspector entered the library with Jefferson from the hall, Roger, who had heard his arrival and was determined to miss no more of this interesting situation than he could possibly help, contrived to present himself at the French windows, the faithful Alec still in tow.
“Good-morning, Inspector,” he said cheerfully.
Jefferson frowned slightly; perhaps he was remembering his last words to Roger. “These are Mr. Sheringham and Mr. Grierson, Inspector,” he said a little brusquely. “They were present when we broke the door in.”
The inspector nodded. “Good-morning, gentlemen. Sad business, this. Very.” He glanced rapidly round the room. “Ah, there’s the body. Excuse me, Major.”
He stepped quickly across and bent over the figure in the chair, examining it attentively. Then he dropped on his knees and scrutinised the hand that held the revolver.
“Mustn’t touch anything till the doctor’s seen him,” he explained briefly, rising to his feet again and dusting the knees of his trousers. “May I have a look at that document you spoke of, sir?”
“Certainly, Inspector. It’s on the table.”