"Never mind, sir," said Morgan consolingly. "You were just off your game, that's all. You'll fool him next time."
J. R. looked at him.
"Fellow got up off the road dizzy, and helped me get up. Then he said, 'Are you Mr. J. R. Burke?' I said yes. He said, I’ve got a telegram for you.' I said, "Well, this is the hell of a way deliver it, isn't it?' Imagine his confounded nerve. 'What is your procedure,' I said, Svhen unusual circumstances compel you to deliver a telegram at somebody's house? Is it necessary to use a tank, or do you only wrap the telegram round a hand grenade and chuck it through the window?' " Evidently satisfied by this retort, J. R. recovered some of his good humor. He growled something into his glass, and glanced sardonically at Morgan. "By the way, it was from Langdon, Depping's solicitor in London. You people at The Grange — I don't suppose anybody thought to do that, eh? Fine practical minds. Suppose you thought his affairs would take care of themselves."
"Any ideas," said Morgan, "about the murder?"
J. R. looked at him sharply. "No. It's a bad business, that's all I know. Going to hurt us — plenty. Why theorize? They've caught the murderer…"
"Have they?"
"If you're trying to apply theories…" The corners of the other's mouth turned down, and he surveyed his glass; looked around it, and over it, and under it. Til give you advice. Stick to John Zed, and let real life alone. Don't touch this business, anyway. It's mucky."
"Well, that's what I was wondering. The police are likely to be asking you what you know about Depping; his past, and the rest of it—"
"You mean Gideon Fell will. Humph… What of it? I can't tell him any more than I can tell anybody else. Depping's credit's perfectiy sound and Bank-of-England. Otherwise he had — useful qualities. Standish vouched for him. If Fell wants any further information, hell have to ask the solicitor. Langdon will be here tonight or tomorrow morning."
Morgan evidently saw that J. R. (if he knew anything) had no disposition to talk. But Morgan talked. He stood in the middle of the darkened lawn and proceeded with a recital which raised Donovan's hair— for, in essentials, it was inference for inference almost exactly the same explanation as Dr. Fell's.