"Hush-money! What do you mean, man?"
"Mean! I mean that I believe Joe Brill was the short man I saw that night. Yes, Mr. Thorold, Joe stole the corpse, and Joe killed foully, with a knife, my respected brother-in-law. Hinc illæ lachrymæ!"
[CHAPTER IX.]
INVESTIGATION
Whilst Alan Thorold was dealing with Cicero and his sister in London, Inspector Blair was co-operating with the Rector in obtaining evidence relating to the murder. The inspector was a dry, dour, silent man, born in England, but of Scotch descent. He was cautious to a fault, and never expressed an opinion without having well considered what he was going to say. It was now a common sight in Heathton for his long, lean figure and the Rector's short, plump one to be seen constantly together.
He was now in the Rectory dining-room with a good glass of port beside him, and Mr. Phelps, standing on the hearthrug, was supplying him with all the details he had collected in connection with the mystery. The case was getting so much more interesting than Blair, the sad and silent, had expected that he was becoming, for him, quite vivacious. He asked the Rector one question after another.
"Mr. Thorold has gone to Dixon's Rents, sir?"
"Yes, Mr. Inspector; I expect he'll have some news for us when he returns to-night."
"He seems a clever young gentleman," Blair said musingly. "I dare say he will bring this man Gramp with him."
"Do you think that Gramp can point out the guilty person?"