Roper, with camera, did his work quickly and quietly. Baddeley went through Prescott’s pockets.
“Absolutely empty, gentlemen. He’s fully dressed, too.”
“Not quite, Inspector,” said Anthony. “Look at his shoes!”
“Good Lord! Fully, but not properly, eh? Tut—tut—extraordinary.” His eyes brightened. “And a lace missing—why, oh why, oh why?” And then authoritatively—
“Sir Charles, none of your guests must leave this morning, till I have seen any of them I consider it necessary to.”
“As you wish, Inspector. Tell them all, Jack.”
Jack Considine slipped out.
“Got all you want, Roper?” Baddeley strode across to the window.
“Not been touched—eh?” He bent forward—eager—attentive; then leaned out across the window sill. Then I think he sniffed and rubbed his hands together.
“We’re progressing, Mr. Bathurst. Don’t you think so?”