“I knew little of Mr. Fynes’ tastes. Dicky—I mean Mr. Vanderpole—had none at all except an enthusiasm for his profession and a love of polo.”
“His profession,” the Inspector repeated. “Mr. Vanderpole was attached to the American Embassy, was he not?”
“I believe so,” Penelope answered.
“Mr. Hamilton Fynes,” the Inspector continued, “might almost have been said to have followed the same occupation.”
“Surely not!” Penelope objected. “I always understood that Mr. Fynes was employed in a Government office at Washington,—something to do with the Customs, I thought, or forest duties.”
Mr. Jacks nodded thoughtfully.
“I am not aware, as yet,” he said, “of the precise nature of Mr. Fynes’ occupation. I only knew that it was, in some shape or form, Government work.”
“You know as much about it,” she answered, “as I do.”
“We have sent,” the Inspector continued smoothly, “a special man out to Washington to make all inquiries that are possible on the spot, and incidentally, to go through the effects of the deceased, with a view to tracing any complications in which he may have been involved in this country.”
Penelope opened her lips, but closed them again.