“Is this how you'd expect to find a drawer in his desk?”
She blinked at it. “I don't know. I mean, I never went to his desk. I shouldn't have dreamed of opening any of his drawers.”
“I see. Well, if you've no objection, I'll pack this lot up, and go through it at my leisure. Then you won't have to have the house cluttered up with policemen any longer. Everything will be returned to you in due course.” He got up. “See to it, will you, Harbottle? Now, Miss Warrenby, are there any other papers? No safe in the house?”
“Oh, no! Uncle kept all his important papers at the office, I think.”
“Then I won't be taking up any more of your time,” he said. She escorted him into the hall, where they were immediately joined by Mrs. Midgeholme and the Ultimas. Delicacy had prevented Mrs. Midgeholme from accompanying them to the study, but she was plainly agog with curiosity, and would have done her best to ferret out of the Chief Inspector the discovery of a possible clue had not Miss Patterdale at that moment walked in at the open front-door. As she was accompanied by her lumbering canine friend, a scene of great confusion followed her entrance, Mrs. Midgeholme uttering dismayed cries, and both the Ultimas bouncing at the Labrador, Ulysses in a very disagreeable way, and Untidy in a spirit of shameless coquetry. Rex, though good-natured, took very little interest in the Ultimas, but Mrs. Midgeholme was obsessed by the fear that he would one day lose patience with their importunities and maul them hideously. By this time she had succeeded in catching her pets, and scooping them up into her arms, assuring them, quite unnecessarily, that there was nothing for them to be afraid of, Mavis had explained to Miss Patterdale that the stranger was a detective from Scotland Yard: and Miss Patterdale, screwing her glass still more firmly into her eye, had looked him over and said that she was sorry to hear it.
“I knew that this was going to lead to a lot of unpleasantness,” she said. “Well, it has nothing to do with me, but I do trust you won't wantonly stir up any scandal in Thornden!”
“Oh, Miss Patterdale, I'm sure there isn't anything like that to stir up!” said Mavis.
“Nonsense! everyone has something in his life he'd rather wasn't made public. Isn't that so— What's your name?”
“I'm Chief Inspector Hemingway, madam. And I'm bound to say there's a great deal in what you say. However, we do try to be discreet.”
“For my part,” said Mrs. Midgeholme, “I often say my life is an open book!” She added, with a jolly laugh: “Which anyone may read, even the police!”