"Ah! You are a detective. A Bow Street Runner."
"Yes. In charge of the Grangebury murder case."
"Just so!" said Basson, with a nod, and looking grave. "I read about it in the papers; and now I remember, your name was mentioned. Well, and have you caught the blackguard who murdered the poor woman?"
"Not yet I've come to see if you can help me."
"I?" said Basson, much amused. "You've come to the wrong shop, then. How should I know the assassin?"
"If I can believe Mr. Alder, you knew him once," was Gebb's reply.
"Ah! So Alder has been speaking to you about me. He thinks that Dean is guilty, and I was Dean's counsel in that Kirkstone case. Is it that you are driving at, Mr. Gebb?"
"It just is. Do you believe that Dean is guilty?"
Basson did not reply immediately. He lighted a German pipe of porcelain, and, blowing out the match, placed it in a little pile which lay near the inkstand. Then he puffed out a cloud of smoke, and through it looked at his visitor.
"Why do you ask me?" he demanded abruptly.