“I was not told of the incident to which you refer,” Mr. Johnson confided, “until after I had signed the contract. But, in any case, I don’t know that it would have made any difference. The quiet of this place soothes me. To one who has lived a busy life in foreign cities, there is a great attraction in the peaceful outlook of a village like this.”
“That is easily comprehensible,” Henry Ballaston admitted judicially. “Still there are many country places with attractions more obvious than Market Ballaston can offer. Golf links in the immediate vicinity, for instance; shooting or hunting.”
“That may be so,” the other agreed. “My life, however, has been too busy a one to cultivate any taste for such things. I understand there are excellent golf links in the neighbourhood, if later on I find it necessary to seek amusement outside my gardens. Shooting, after a fashion, I have at times indulged in. I gather, however, that there is none to let within reasonable distance.”
“No Ballaston shooting has been let for many years,” was the somewhat stiff reply. “From what part of the world, might I ask, Mr. Johnson, do you come?”
“From all quarters of it. I am by birth an American, but I have travelled a great deal of recent years. The English life is almost unknown to me. It is, perhaps, for that reason that I appreciate these surroundings.”
Henry Ballaston nodded gravely.
“I trust,” he said, “that you will find all your expectations realised. It is a surprise to me,” he added, “to learn that you are of American birth. Your accent would not betray the fact.”
“I left America,” Mr. Johnson explained, “when I was nineteen years old, and I have only once returned to New York. Since then I have learned to speak many languages. My business has required it. As regards the tragedy to which you have alluded,” he went on, after a momentary pause, “although having settled here I shall not allow myself to be disturbed by it, I will confess that the story I was told last evening of the murder in my library was rather a shock. Abroad we have always had a very high opinion of the British detective service. It seems incredible that in a small place like this such a crime should remain undetected.”
“It is, I believe,” was the cold admission, “a circumstance without precedent.”
“I gather that no clue or motive of any sort has been discovered?” Mr. Johnson persisted. “From all that one can hear, the murdered man appears to have been an entirely harmless individual and his belongings not in the least likely to attract the ordinary type of criminal.”