“One more question. Do you recognise this walking-stick?” The inspector had found this lying on the floor of the room. It might be Prinsep’s; but it was best to make sure.
“No, sir. I’ve never seen it to my knowledge. But it may have been Mr. Prinsep’s, for all that. He had quite a number.”
“You’ve no idea, then, whose it was?”
“No, sir. Mr. Prinsep used to collect walking-sticks. He was always bringing new ones home.”
“Now, I want to ask you another question. You see this knife—the one that was sticking out of the body. Have you ever seen it before?”
Winter’s manner showed some hesitation. At length he said, “No, I can’t say I have. I mean, it wasn’t here to my knowledge yesterday.”
“You seem to hesitate in answering. It’s a curious sort of knife. Surely you would remember if you had seen it. Or have you seen one like it?”
“Must I answer that question, sir? You see, I’m not at all sure it was the same.”
“Of course you must answer. It is your business to give the police all the help you can in discovering the murderer.”
“Well, sir, all I meant was that I’d often seen Mr. George Brooklyn using that sort of knife when he was doing his work—he’s an architect—down at Fittleworth. He used to bring his work down when he came to stay with Sir Vernon, and I know he had a knife like that.”