Inspector Gibbs was a very polite young man, excellently groomed, and with an air of treating you as one man of the world treats another. Very politely he explained the purpose of his visit, and told Ellery that he must not suppose that, merely because the police asked him certain questions, there was any suspicion at all attaching to him. “But we must, you know, get all our facts quite complete.” Ellery said that he fully understood, and was prepared to answer any questions to the best of his power. “But the plain fact is,” he said, “that I know nothing at all about it.”
He was first asked at what time he had left Liskeard House on Tuesday evening, and replied that it was a few minutes past ten—he could not say more exactly. No, he had not returned there later in the evening—he had gone straight back to Chelsea. At what time had he reached his rooms in Chelsea? About midnight. Not till he made that answer did it occur to him that there was anything in his movements it might be difficult to explain.
“About midnight?” said the inspector, with a note of surprise in his voice. “But you said you went straight back after leaving Liskeard House.”
“What I meant was that I went nowhere else in particular in between. As a matter of fact I walked back, and spent some time strolling up and down the Embankment before I returned to my rooms. I went down to Chelsea Bridge and walked right along the Embankment to Lots Road, and then back here to Tite Street. It was just about midnight when I let myself in.”
“I see. And did you meet any one after you came in?”
“No; but my landlady may have seen me come in. There was still a light in her room, which looks out over the front door.”
Before the inspector left he saw the landlady, and confirmed this with her. She had seen Ellery come in at about midnight. There was nothing unusual in his taking a long evening stroll by the river on a fine night.
But before he saw the landlady the inspector had further questions to ask of Ellery himself. “You say, then, that you were walking about for close on two hours between Liskeard House and Chelsea Embankment. Is there any one who can corroborate this?”
Ellery thought for a moment. “Yes, there ought to be,” he said. “I met a friend who lives somewhere down here in Chelsea, at Hyde Park Corner, at about a quarter past ten, and he left me at the Lots Road end of the Embankment at about half-past eleven. We were together all that time.”
“Will you give me his name and address?”