He grinned. “I’m holding ’em for the time being, old son. Don’t be in such a hurry. All good Watsons have patience as their longest suit.”
“I can’t see any motive,” I complained.
“Find that, Bill, and you’ll be two-thirds of the way to the solution. In a few minutes I’m going to have a good look round. I’m going with Baddeley when he comes back from the garden.”
“Where to?” I asked. “Where will he go then?”
“Well, if he’s got any sense—and I’m confident he has—to Prescott’s bedroom.”
I nodded my head wisely.
“To see any——”
Sir Charles’s voice outside, broke in upon us without ceremony.
“Dr. Elliott wants us all in the billiard room,” he called. “All those of us who were there before.”
We accompanied him downstairs.