“I grant you all that,” replied Bannister, “but I don’t know that I expected to meet it in a motor-car at Tranfield. It’s locked,” he added—trying the two catches.
“You’ll find the key on the bed in all probability, Inspector,” cut in Anthony jerking his head in the direction of the room that they had just left. “The murderer—if it were a man—took all Miss Delaney’s keys and brought them back with him from Seabourne. Nothing of hers was found in Branston’s surgery remember.”
Bannister grunted thoughtfully. Anthony picked up the suit-case. “Was this case actually right underneath the seat, Inspector?” he asked.
“It was, Mr. Bathurst—why?”
“Does it suggest anything to you, Inspector?”
“Only too true! This car was pretty full up on the return journey.”
Anthony regarded him curiously. “Funny thing—that didn’t occur to me. It’s strange how people see different explanations. Two heads are better than one—you can’t get away from the truth of that. No—what I was thinking was that the suit-case had been pushed under the seat to hide it.”
Bannister turned slowly—his eyes narrowing. “By Jove—now that possibility certainly might mean—” he strode to the doors of the garage rapidly and decisively. Anthony’s idea seemed to have given him a new and definite impetus.
“Ross,” he called, peremptorily. The local Sergeant came up quickly. “Ross,” went on Bannister, “get a telegram despatched at once to ‘4, Rolle Cottages, Otterton,’ ” he referred to the postcard they had found on the mat, and then turned to Anthony. “I think Miss Carruthers said the nurse’s name was ‘Carr,’ didn’t she?”
“Quite right, Inspector.”