“Jimmy O’Loughlin,” said Mr. Goddard, “appears to be as big a fool as anybody about Clonmore.”
CHAPTER XI
Wilkins was a little puzzled when he opened the door to Mr. Goddard. His orders were definite. Lord Manton was not at home when the police called. Mr. Goddard in his uniform, complete to the sword, the whistle and the spurs, was undeniably a policeman. But Wilkins was a good servant, a very good servant. He was accustomed to interpreting his orders as well as obeying them. He knew that Mr. Goddard was a superior kind of policeman. He dined occasionally at Clonmore Castle, and Wilkins waited on him. After a moment’s hesitation, Wilkins offered to go and find out whether Lord Manton was at home or not. Mr. Goddard was shown into a large, desolate drawing-room, and left there. Wilkins was glad afterwards that he had appreciated the difference in standing between a district inspector and a sergeant. It appeared that Lord Manton was quite willing to see this visitor. Mr. Goddard was shown into the library.
“Sit down,” said Lord Manton. “I’m very glad to see you. You’ll stay and dine, won’t you? Since poor O’Grady left us I haven’t had a soul to speak to at meals.”
“It was about Dr. O’Grady’s disappearance that I called to see you,” said Mr. Goddard.
“There’s no use coming to me about that. I’m a magistrate, I know; but I very seldom act. Why not go to Jimmy O’Loughlin? He loves signing papers.”
“I’m rather puzzled over the case. The fact is——”