“For to-night you may sleep in the kitchen. One does not expect——”
There was a thunderous knock on the outer door. The two men looked at one another, but still Gurther grinned.
“I think it is the police,” said the doctor calmly.
He got up to his feet, lifted the seat of a long hard-looking sofa, disclosing a deep cavity, and Gurther slipped in, and the seat was replaced. This done, the doctor waddled to the door and turned the key.
“Good morning, Inspector Meadows.”
“May I come in?” said Meadows.
Behind him were two police officers, one in uniform.
“Do you wish to see me? Certainly.” He held the door cautiously open and only Meadows came in, and preceded the doctor into his study.
“I want Mirabelle Leicester,” said Meadows curtly. “She was abducted from her home in the early hours of this morning, and I have information that the car which took her away came to this house. There are tracks of wheels in the mud outside.”
“If there are car tracks, they are mine,” said the doctor calmly. He enumerated the makes of machines he possessed. “There is another matter: as to cars having come here in the night, I have a sense of hearing, Mr. Inspector Meadows, and I have heard many cars in Hangman’s Lane—but not in my ground. Also, I’m sure you have not come to tell me of abducted girls, but to disclose to me the miscreant who burnt my store. That is what I expected of you.”