He turned to Roper.
“You come with me, Roper. I may want you.”
Sir Charles Considine coughed—then, very quietly but nevertheless very determinedly—interposed. “That seems to me a trifle one-sided as a proposition, Inspector. You have support, physical, moral, and also no doubt intellectual,” he smiled somewhat whimsically at Roper—“and we, all of us, are, to an extent, shaken by the terrible event that has befallen my house, and, therefore, as a consequence are neither so self-controlled nor so mentally alert as normally. We appear before you to be questioned and cross-examined. I don’t think I should be asking an unwarranted favor if I suggested that you allow, say, two members of my circle to be present while you conduct your examination. H’m? What do you say, Inspector?”
Baddeley met his gaze for a moment, as though making an attempt to fathom his real intentions. Then with a laugh and a shrug of his eminently business-like shoulders, gestured his consent.
“Choose your men. On the condition that I see the three of you first.”
“Thank you, Inspector. Believe me, I appreciate your courtesy. I should like Mr. Cunningham and Mr. Bathurst to—er—um—assist you in your intended investigations.”
“As you wish, sir, and thank you. Now, with your permission, you three gentlemen will do me the goodness to accompany me to the library, and we will do our united best to see if we can’t, by hook or by crook, throw some light on this unfortunate affair. And you, Roper! I’ve been lucky enough to unravel some pretty ticklish problems in my time, some by good luck, some, if I may say so, gentlemen, with pardonable pride, by intelligent application to the matter in hand. And I hope,” he turned on us all decisively, “to hunt the truth out, here.”
We entered the library. Our host motioned us to our seats. Baddeley took the armchair at the head of the table investing himself as far as he could with an atmosphere of the inquisitorial. Roper took the chair on his left. Sir Charles placed himself in front of the fireplace, while Anthony and I took chairs at the side of the table.
The Inspector was soon in his stride.
“Now, Sir Charles, this Mr. Prescott, whose death we all deplore, was a guest of yours?”