Linnell cut into his remarks. “I told you the Galleries had been robbed during the night. I didn’t tell you what had actually been stolen. As far as the police could tell when I left them, the only three things that had been taken were the very three that Stewart commissioned us to buy!”
He paused and walked to the window. Then turned and confronted Peter.
“What do you make of that? Extraordinary, isn’t it? To say the least!”
Peter whistled softly. “I said we seemed to be well in it. I feel sure now. And what’s more, Linnell, I’ve got a feeling we haven’t heard or seen the last of it either, by a long way. You mark my words.”
Linnell smiled. “I agree with you! As a matter of fact, I shouldn’t be at all surprised if Detective-Inspector Goodall hasn’t already got a certain Peter Daventry on his list of ‘suspects.’ I hope your alibi’s good.”
“What on earth are you gibbering about?” demanded Peter. “And who the hell’s Detective-Inspector Goodall?”
“I’m not gibbering, my dear fellow. Detective-Inspector Goodall is the gentleman from Scotland Yard that is investigating the Galleries murder, and he has, of course, been informed of your interest in the Stuart relics and of your call there yesterday. Young Forshaw told him. Then there was my call to-day—I got in ‘at the death’ as you might say—I could see he thought it was damned suspicious conduct—all of it—I explained our connection with the affair——”
“You told him of Stewart’s commission? Was that wise? Yet awhile?”
“I think so, Peter! My professional experience has taught me the value of frankness and truth—even as a solicitor—that is why I never entered Parliament.”
“But why suspect me?” reiterated Peter. “Is every intending purchaser on the——?”