“If you knew all that was going on,” he said, “you wouldn’t like it.”
We reached the store. The young woman who controls the sale of miscellaneous goods was alert and smiling behind her counter. Whatever Crossan might be doing she at all events was attending to her business. Godfrey took no notice of her. He led me through the shop to the yard behind it. He pushed open the door of one of the outhouses.
“That door ought to be locked,” he said.
This was true. I was somewhat surprised to find it open.
“I forced the lock this morning,” said Godfrey, “with a screw driver.”
“In that case,” I said, “you can hardly blame Crossan for its being open. Why did you do it?”
“I wanted to see what he had inside,” said Godfrey, “and I wanted you to see.”
There was a good deal inside. In fact the outhouse, a large building, was filled from floor to ceiling with packing-cases, some of them very large indeed. Godfrey pointed to a small one near the door.
“Just lift that up, will you, Excellency?” said Godfrey.
“No, I won’t. Why should I? I’m not a railway porter, and it looks heavy.”