“What are you suggesting?” he asked.
“I’m suggesting,” replied Elk deliberately, “that if Bennett can’t account for his movements on Saturday night, I’m going to pull him in. Saul Morris I’ve never met, nor young Wal Cormon either—they were before I did big work. But if my idea is right, Saul Morris isn’t as dead as he ought to be. I’m going down to see Brother Bennett, and I think perhaps I’ll be doing a bit of resurrecting!”
CHAPTER IX
THE MAN WHO WAS WRECKED
JOHN BENNETT was working in his garden in the early morning when Elk called, and the inspector came straight to the point.
“There was a burglary committed at the residence of Lord Farmley on Saturday night and Sunday morning. Probably between midnight and three o’clock. The safe was blown and important documents stolen. I’m asking you to account for your movements on Saturday night and Sunday morning.”
Bennett looked the detective straight in the eyes.
“I was on the London road—I walked from town. At two o’clock I was speaking with a policeman in Dorking. At midnight I was in Kingbridge, and again I spoke to a policeman. Both these men know me because I frequently walk to Dorking and Kingbridge. The man at Dorking is an amateur photographer like myself.”
Elk considered.
“I’ve a car here; suppose you come along and see these policemen?” he suggested, and to his surprise Bennett agreed at once.