Sir Charles met us as we entered the house, a changed man from the morning before.
“I wanted a word with you two men. I’m perfectly assured that you will understand—it’s nothing really to do with me, or anything—er—over which I appear to be able to exercise any control—but Inspector Baddeley has intimated to me—I must say, that, for a policeman, he put the matter very, very tactfully—I might even go so far as to say—delicately—that he wishes to interview all of us in the house, as soon as possible. I suggested we resort to the library.”
“That’s all right, sir,” responded Anthony. “Is he waiting now?”
Sir Charles looked at his watch. “I have made arrangements for the proceedings to—er—commence in half an hour’s time.”
“Could I have half a word with you, sir?” asked Anthony.
“Delighted, Bathurst.”
“I’ve always been attracted by affairs of this nature, sir, little thinking that one day I should be swept into one. Would you be good enough to give me carte blanche as it were, to do a little investigating off my own bat? With your authority, you see, acting in a private capacity as your agent, I can satisfy Inspector Baddeley of my bona fides if he catches me nosing into things.” Sir Charles pondered for a moment, and I fancied his reply came after some degree of hesitation.
“I see no objection, Bathurst. Provided, of course, that any—er—results of your inquiry—are submitted to me before any action is taken.”
“I’ll promise you that, sir—readily!”
“Very well.”