Bitton nodded. His heavy, reddish, rather thickly-lined face was assuming normal appearance.
`Yes,' he said, reflectively. `The swine's dead. I heard it when I went home to dinner. But I'm afraid it hasn't cut my detective agency off from much money. I was intending to pay them off and get rid of them to-morrow. Business conditions being what they are, I couldn't afford an unnecessary expense.!’
'That, Mr Bitton, is open to two meanings. Which of them do you imply?'
'Let's be frank, Mr…. er… Hadley. I have played the fool. You know I was having my wife followed. I owe her a profound apology. What I have discovered only does credit to her name.'
Hadley's face wore a faint smile.
'Mr Bitton,' he said, 'I had intended having a conversation with you tonight, and this is as good a place as any. I shall have to ask you a number of questions.
`As you wish'
Hadley looked round at his companions. Dr Fell was running his eyes over the small, pleasant room, with its dull, brown-papered walls, sporting prints, and leather chairs. One of the chairs had been knocked over. The drawer of a side-table had been thrown, upside down on the floor, its contents scattered. Dr Fell stumped across and peered down.
`Theatre programmes,' he said, `magazines, old invitations, bills…. H'm. 'Nothing I want here. The desk and the, typewriter will be in the other rooms somewhere. Excuse me. Carry on with the questioning'
He disappeared through a door at the rear.