‘I was just thinking about the death of Featherstone. Featherstone lived in a couple of rooms in Blenheim Mansions, off the Edgware Road. Furnished rooms they were, let by a woman who has two flats on the same floor, and lets them out in small quantities to bachelors.’
‘Yes?’
‘I wanted a couple of rooms myself.’
‘Have you not sufficient accommodation here?’
‘I wanted, as I was saying, a couple of rooms myself, and I had a fancy to take the two rooms once occupied by the deceased Featherstone. It was a morbid fancy, perhaps. The landlady seemed to think so. Anyhow, I took them. I entered into possession this afternoon, and locked the door.’
‘Did you expect to see his ghost? Featherstone killed himself at the bank, not in his rooms.’
‘I am aware of it, sir,’ said Oakley. ‘I did not expect to see his ghost; I merely wanted to look round.’
‘Look round for what?’
‘For anything interesting that I might be able to see.’
‘But surely the police had searched?’