The Sergeant shook his head in a somewhat dubious manner, but once more picked up the telephone. After a few minutes, he was able to inform his superior that Mr. Carpenter, denying all knowledge of the companies his brother had toured with, did seem to remember hearing him speak of an agent.
"It might have been Johnson, or Jackson, or even Jamieson," said the Sergeant sarcastically. "Anyway, he feels sure the name began with a j. Isn't that nice?"
"Good enough," Hannasyde replied. "I'll go into that in the morning."
"And what do you want me to do?" the Sergeant inquired. "Ask Mr. Brown a few searching questions?"
"Yes, by all means. Get hold of the girl again as well, and see if she sticks to her original story. And look here, Hemingway! Don't mention any of this to anyone at all. When you've interviewed Brown and Dora Jenkins, go down to Marley. I'll either join you there, or send a message through to you."
"What do I do there?" asked the Sergeant, staring. "Hold a prayer meeting with Ichabod?"
"You can check up on your own theory about Neville F'letcher's hat. You can take another careful look at the paper-weight, too."
"Oh, so now we go all out for young Neville, do we?" said the Sergeant, his gaze fixed on the Superintendent's face. "Are you trying to link him up with Angela, Chief? What have you suddenly spotted, if I may make so bold as to ask? Twenty minutes ago we had two highly insoluble murder cases in front of us. It doesn't seem to me as though you're particularly interested in Brown, so what is it you're after?"
"The common factor," answered Hannasyde. "It only dawned on me twenty minutes ago, and may very possibly be a mare's nest."
"Common factor?" repeated the Sergeant. "Well, that's the weapon, and I thought we'd been after that ever since the start."