`Yes. And I rather overstepped my rights,' said Dalrye. He drew from his wallet a number of sheets of paper. `I was very solemn about it. I instructed them to write down names, addresses, occupations, and references. Most of them were obvious tourists. I don't think there's any harm in them, and they didn't show any fight. Except Mrs Bitton, that is. And one other woman.'
He handed the bundle of sheets to Hadley. The chief inspector glanced up sharply. `One other woman? Who was she?'
`I didn't notice what she wrote, but I remembered her name from the way she acted. Hard-faced party. You see, I had it all very official, to scare 'em into writing the truth. And this woman was wary. She said, "You're not a notary, are you, young man?" and I was so surprised that I looked at her. Then she said, "You've got no right to do this, young man. We're not under oath. My name is Larkin, and I'm a respectable widow, and that's all you need to know."
Hadley shuffled through the papers.
`Larkin,' he repeated. `H'm. We must look into this. When the net goes out, we often get small fish we're not after at all…. Larkin, Larkin here it is. "Mrs Amanda Georgette Larkin." The "Mrs" in brackets; she wants that clearly understood. Stiff handwriting. Address — Hallo!'
He put down the sheets and frowned. `Well, well! The address is "Tavistock Chambers, 34 Tavistock Square." So she lives in the same building as young Driscoll, eh? This is getting to be quite a convention.'
Sir William had been rubbing his jaw uneasily. He said: `Look here, Hadley, don't you think you'd better bring Mrs Bitton away from the crowd? — She's my sister-in-law, you know, and after all…'
`Most unfortunate,' said Hadley, composedly. `Where's that man Parker?'
Parker had been standing hatless and coatless in the fog just outside the crack of the door, waiting to be summoned. At Hadley's remark he knocked; came inside, and stood at attention.
He was a square, brownish man with a military cut. Like most corporals of his day, he ran largely to moustache; nor did he in the least resemble a valet. The high white collar pinioned his head, as though he were having a daguerreotype taken.