Anthony joined him and I could see he was puzzled.
“You can get on now, Dr. Elliott,” declared Baddeley. “I want to have a look outside. Come along, Roper.” They went out.
Sir Charles heaved a sigh of relief.
“Most distressing!” he said. “When he was looking at me I felt like a murderer myself. I think we’ll leave Dr. Elliott to his job for a few minutes and go and dress decently.”
Anthony lingered for a moment or two, then followed us out.
Within a short time he joined me in my bedroom. Like me, he had taken the opportunity to shave and dress.
“Sit on the bed, Holmes,” I said, “the tobacco is not in the Persian slipper, but the cigarettes are on the dressing-table.”
He took one.
“Bill,” he said, “I’m worried. This is a beastly business.”
“No clues?” I said.