"Good Lord, did he see Helen's man too? That wasn't in the paper John brought home!"
"Oh, here we live at the hub of the crime!" said Neville. Just a moment," interposed Sally, pulling her hand away. "I want to take a look at the general lay-out. Anyone mounting guard over the study?"
"Not now. Nothing to be seen."
"I might get an idea," Sally said darkly.
"Morbid mind, professional interest, or family feeling?" She ignored the implication of this last alternative.
"Professional interest."
They had rounded the corner of the house, and come in sight of the path leading to a gate set in the fence separating the garden from Maple Grove. A thick bed of shrubs concealed the fence from view, and was being subjected to a rigorous search by two hot and rather dishevelled policemen. Sally cast them a cursory glance, and transferred her attention to the house. "Which is Helen's bush?"
He pointed it out to her, and she went to it, inspected the footprints, and would have concealed herself behind it had it not been for the prompt action of PC Glass, who, having observed her arrival with some disapproval, now abandoned his search in the shrubbery to admonish her.
"It's all right," said Sally. "I'm not going to obliterate the prints, or anything like that. I only want to get an idea of what anyone hidden here, in the dark, could actually see. I'm interested in crime."
"Remove thy foot from evil," recommended Glass severely. "These things are in the hands of the police."