“Well, now,” said Roger, pulling himself together and settling down more comfortably in his chair. “Well, now, Inspector, what about it all? If you feel a little more disposed to be confidential, isn’t this rather a good opportunity to review the case as it stands at present? I’m inclined to think it is.”
The inspector set down his glass and wiped his moustache. “You mean, while there’s only two of us to do the discussing instead of three?” he asked with a large wink.
“Exactly. My cousin’s outlook is—well, not altogether unprejudiced.”
“And is yours, sir?” asked the inspector shrewdly.
Roger laughed. “A palpable hit. Well, I certainly do not think the young lady in whom you’ve been taking so much interest has anything to do with it, I must confess. In fact, I’ll go further and say that I’ve absolutely made up my mind on the point.”
“And yet the evidence points more conclusively to her than to anybody else,” remarked the inspector mildly.
“Oh, no doubt. But evidence can be faked, can’t it? And you yourself were pointing out to me only a few hours ago that things aren’t always what they seem.”
“Was I, now?” queried the inspector, with an air of gentle surprise.
“Oh, Inspector, don’t start fencing with me again!” Roger implored. “I’ve given you a perfectly good drink, I’m prepared to hand over to you all my startling and original ideas—do try to be human!”
“Well, Mr. Sheringham, what is it you want to discuss?” asked the inspector, evidently trying hard to be human.