“No, sir. Nothing.”
“Was the man - what's his name - Vereker, staying at Riverside Cottage?”
“Not to my knowledge he wasn't sir, but then he didn't, not during the week as a general rule. It being Saturday, I figured it out he must have been on his way down to the Cottage. Mrs Beaton would know whether he was there. She'd have had her orders to go in and make things ready for him.”
“Does she live out?”
“Yes, sir. Pennyfarthing Row, a couple of minutes from the cottage. She keeps the place clean, and gets in milk and eggs and such, when he's coming down. He often gets down late on Saturdays, so she was telling me. I have known him to bring his valet down to do for him, but just as often he comes alone.” He paused, and corrected himself. “When I say alone, I mean he often don't bring a servant with him.”
“What do you mean?” inquired the Doctor.
“Well, sir, he sometimes bring friends down with him.” He gave a little cough. “Most often females, so I've heard.”
“Wife? Sister?” interrupted the Inspector.
“Oh no, sir! Nothing like that,” replied the Constable, rather shocked.
“Oh , that kind of female!” said the Inspector. “We'd better go round first thing in the morning to Riverside Cottage, and see if there's anything to be got there. There's nothing here. Ground's too dry for footprints. We'll get along, Doctor, if you're ready. You'll hand in your report tomorrow, Dickenson, see? You can go off to bed now.” He moved away towards the car with the Doctor. Constable Dickenson heard him say in his dry way: “Looks to me like a case for the Yard. London man. Nothing to do with us. Nice easy case too - if they can lay their hands on the woman.”