"All right! all right! No offence meant I assure you. You must pardon an old man's irritability—the news you have brought me does not make for evenness of temper. I rely on your department to clear this matter up with the least possible scandal."
"I am afraid that scandal is inevitable," retorted the officer dryly, for he still felt sore at Lord Radclyffe's ill-tempered thrust. "We shall have to rake up a great deal of what might be unpleasant to many parties."
"Why should it be unpleasant?"
"We shall have to know something of the murdered man's past, of his associates before—before he was able to establish his claim to your lordship's consideration."
"I have no doubt that the late Philip de Mountford had many undesirable associates in the past," remarked Lord Radclyffe curtly.
The silence which followed was tantamount to a dismissal. The officer rose to go. He felt nettled at the old man's obvious sneers: they had been like a cold douche over his enthusiasm, for the case had already drifted into his hands and it promised to be the most interesting and most sensational criminal case of modern times.
"You have not," he said before taking his leave, "told me, my lord, what you wish done about the body."
"Surely," replied Lord Radclyffe querulously, "it is too late now to make any arrangements. What is the time?"
"Half past ten, my lord."
"Surely to-morrow morning we can discuss all that."