“Did you? Well, think again. Report, please Inspector!”
“He’s an impatient sort of gentleman, your cousin, isn’t he?” the inspector observed to Anthony, grinning maddeningly.
“Yes, but he’s awfully dangerous when roused. We always humour him in the family.”
“Is that good for him though, in the long run?” asked the inspector with an air of earnest enquiry. “Now my experience of these impatient people is that you ought to⸺”
Roger opened the door and called downstairs. “Landlord, empty the flowing bowl! We shan’t want our supper till midnight!”
“I give in, sir,” said the inspector hastily. “Here’s the report!”
“Fill the flowing bowl, landlord,” Roger countermanded in stentorian tones. “We’ll have supper at once.”
The report was all that Roger could have desired. Its laconic wording ran as follows:—
“The impression is of the right thumb of Sam Field, alias Slippery Sam, alias The Shrimp, alias The Sky Pilot, alias Herbert Peters, alias Herbert Smith, etc. etc. Served two years, 1909–11, for robbery with violence; three years, 1913–16, for burglary; five years, 1918–23, for fraud and embezzlement. Wanted now on three similar charges. Small, dark, mole on right cheek, blue eyes, large nose; good education, speaks well, ingratiating manners. Fond of disguising himself as a solicitor, clergyman or other member of the professional classes.”
“Golly!” observed Roger, and handed the report to Anthony.