"He's probably got a special place for the key: most of them have."
"Yes, but I've hunted high and low, and I can't find it. The chauffeur thinks he keeps it on him, because he won't have people borrowing his tools, nor getting at the apples he's got stored in the loft."
"Where does he live?" Hemingway asked.
"Village about two miles to the north of this place."
"Seems to me I'd better have another little chat with the Lord High Everything Else."
Correctly deducing that his superior was referring to the butler. Sergeant Ware at once went off to find this personage. But Sturry, when informed that Inspector Hemingway had need, for unspecified reasons, of a ladder, was not helpful. He said that he regretted there was nothing of that nature in the house. His tone did not imply regret, but rather an unexplained contempt of ladders.
The Inspector knew well that Sturry was trying to put him in his place, but beyond thinking that he would have made a perfect stage-butler, and had clearly missed his vocation, he paid little heed to his forbidding manner. "I didn't suppose you had one in the house," he said, "but I've seen an orchard, and my reasoning powers, which are a lot keener than you might think, tell me that there must be a ladder somewhere on the estate."
"No doubt you would be referring to Mr. Galloway's ladder," said Sturry tolerantly.
"No doubt!" said the Inspector. "Who's Mr. Galloway?"
"Mr. Galloway, Inspector, is the head-gardener, a very respectable man. The late Mr. Herriard employed two under-gardeners, andd a Boy, but they, if I may say so, Do Not Count."