“Come now, inspector, this is hardly fair. I barely know George Brooklyn. I don’t think he and Prinsep liked each other; but there had been no quarrel so far as I know. I suppose you are thinking of the handkerchief.”
“I have to think of these things.”
While he was speaking the inspector opened his bag and took out the knife again.
“A curious knife this,” he said. “Perhaps you can tell me whether it is a surgical instrument.”
“Not so curious, when you know what it is. I do happen to know, though it has nothing to do with my profession. My son is a mechanical draughtsman, and he has several. Knives of this type are sold by most firms which supply architects’ and draughtsmen’s materials.”
“H’m, what did you say was Mr. George Brooklyn’s profession?”
“I believe he is an architect, and a very promising one.”
“That, doctor, may make this knife a most valuable clue.”
“I do not choose to consider it in that light. Clues are not my affair, I am glad to say.”
“Well, they are my business, and I shall certainly have to make further inquiries about Mr. George Brooklyn.”