Gregory paused in the act of lighting a cigarette and stared at him.
“Why, that’s all right,” he assented. “What about it?”
“The police have evidence,” Major Holmes continued, “that at about three o’clock this morning—that is to say twenty minutes or so before the burglary at the Great House was committed—some one was seen to leave the Hall, cross the park and enter the Great House, or, at any rate, to disappear in that neighbourhood.”
Gregory finished lighting his cigarette.
“Where on earth did the police get hold of their information?” he enquired. “From a poacher?”
“From a person whose word it would be a little difficult to upset,” the Chief Constable replied. “Acting on his information, I have come up here to pay an official visit. I have interviewed all the servants without result. I understand that you possess a key to the smaller library door which you sometimes use.”
“I often use it,” Gregory admitted. “If I dine out or anything of that sort, or come home by the mail from London, I use it to avoid undoing all the bolts of the front door.”
“Where was the key last night? Anywhere where any one could have got hold of it?”
“I shouldn’t have thought so. It’s in my dressing room somewhere.”
“You didn’t lend it to any one?”