"Have you, sir? Here?" the inspector asked.
"Outside, filling up some form. He didn't want me to recognise him, for he turned his back at once. I should like very much to know what he's doing. It looks to me as though he followed us here, to find out what we were up to.
The inspector nodded. "Good job you saw him, sir. Now you go out, will you, quite naturally, and I'll have a word with this Mr. Strange, just casually, you understand. I shall soon find out what he came for." He pulled the door open again. "That's right, sir. And you'd be surprised the number of pairs of gentlemen's gloves that get lost. Not but what you could hardly leave them in a better place than the station-house, could you? Good morning to you, sir."
Outside Charles looked round for Strange's car, but it was not visible. Since it seemed improbable that he had walked to Manfield it was clear that he had parked it somewhere where it would not be seen. Charles got into his own car, and waited for Peter to take his place beside him. As he let in the clutch Peter said: "Well, where are the gloves?"
"In the top right-hand drawer of my dressing-table so far as I know," Charles answered. "That, my boy, was a blind."
"Was it indeed? Why?"
"Did you see that fellow who was waiting in the charge room?"
"No - that is, yes, I believe I did notice someone, now you come to mention it. I can't say I paid much attention to him, though. What about him?"
"Michael Strange."
"No!" Peter said. "Are you sure?"