Forshaw passed his hands across his brow in an attempt at recollection.
“Nothing, I think! That is to say—oh, I remember—he asked how many other people had been to examine the three articles he was handling.”
“What was your answer? That question interests me too.”
“My answer was ‘nobody’ . . . It was true,” Forshaw replied simply.
Goodall looked across at Linnell.
“Now I wonder what made your partner——”
“Look here, Inspector,” broke in Linnell with a gesture of annoyance, “for goodness sake don’t start imagining things. Daventry was interested in Stuart articles purely from the standpoint of a competitive purchaser, about to act on behalf of a client—surely you don’t——”
Goodall patted him on the arm. “Don’t get a ‘peeve,’ Mr. Linnell. It’s my job to ask questions and very often a random sort of question hits a target quite unexpectedly. Don’t forget that the presence of both you and your partner in this affair is downright queer. Right from the beginning—to the point we’ve reached now—you admitted as much yourself when you came in.”
But Mr. Linnell’s professional dignity had been touched—he remained quite silent under the Inspector’s attempt at justification. He walked across to the others. “I think I’ll go, gentlemen. My partner will, no doubt, desire to discuss matters with me as soon as possible. You know where to find me if you should want me.”
He bowed to the company and made his exit.