Masters saw it, and resolved to take due advantage.
"Very interestin'!" growled H.M., surveying the room. "Very!" Suddenly he seemed to remember; he groaned, and belatedly affected a bad limp; but, as this impressed nobody — even the anxious Mrs. Propper — he grudgingly discarded it.
"No sympathy," he said. "No sympathy for anybody! Looky here, ma'am. Chief Inspector Masters wants to ask you…"
"You ask her, sir," said Masters softly.
"I'm sure if there's anything I can do for you, sir," said Mrs. Propper, "I'd be only too glad to do it! Will you come into the kitchen?"
They went. Ann and Courtney followed. Though Masters seemed about to protest, H.M.'s glare silenced him.
Here H.M. leaned his elbow on the refrigerator.
"Ma'am," he began meditatively, "I'm goin' to deal very frankly with you. Can you keep a secret?"
Mrs. Propper's eyes gleamed.
Through the kitchen windows Courtney could see the dustbin beside the garden shed. Its metal lid was askew, and was now being investigated by a stray cat.