Blanchard frowned at her—after all, he thought, it was not seemly that she should obtrude her trivial personal “grouses” at a critical time such as this.
“You’re sure of that,” barked the Inspector. “Certain you found and destroyed nothing?”
“Positive, sir. You can rely on what I’m tellin’ yer, sir—you can put your shirt—sorry, sir!” She caught Blanchard’s eye and amended her ways.
“One question I’d like to ask you before you go,” intervened Anthony. She turned and faced him. “Yes, sir?”
“When you have entered this room, first thing in the morning—during Mr. and Mrs. Stewart’s stay here I mean—have you ever detected a peculiar odor in the room?”
Rabjohns dropped her hands in astonishment. “That I have, sir! Not one morning, but every morning—I even mentioned it down in the kitchen. Smelt like something burning, it did, sir—but however did you know about it, sir?”
Anthony turned to Goodall. “We all have our little secrets, haven’t we, Inspector? As I’ve reminded people before.”
The Inspector coughed. What exactly did Mr. Bathurst mean?
CHAPTER XIX.
Inspector Goodall Is Entertained
When they left Blanchard’s, Anthony decided to have a few additional words with Goodall. “What do you say to a little supper with me, Inspector?”