“And he was in bad with some of the men he was bargaining with,” vouchsafed Peters, who was a privileged participant in the conversation, because Gibbs hoped by this means to learn something from the valet.
“Who, for instance?” demanded Bates.
“Graham, of the Popular Patisserie concern; Vail, here in the house, and Crippen of Crippen’s Cakes.”
“Nothing doing,” returned Gibbs, shortly. “I’ve dug into all those issues. He was off with the Patisserie people weeks ago. He finished discussion with the Vail company some days since, and the only one pending was the Crippen bunch.”
“Yes, and my aunt says he expected to see Crippen the night he was killed.”
“Well, he didn’t,” returned Gibbs. “I’ve looked up Crippen’s alibi and it’s gilt-edged. Vail was in the elevator with Bob Moore at the time of the murder,—that lets him out and the Patisseries are back numbers. I mean they got through with Binney’s Buns as a working proposition, long ago.”
“They might have come back to it,” suggested Bates.
“Sure they might,—so might Crippen or Vail. But they didn’t,—or if they did, we’ve no tiniest speck of evidence of it. If you can get any, go ahead. You don’t know of anything against the Bakery men, do you, Peters?”
“No, sir. But Mr Crippen and Mr Vail have both been here——”
“Here! In Sir Herbert’s rooms?” cried Bates. “What for?”