Mr. Flinders looked coldly at him. "I ought to have been called in before any evidence of the crime had been disturbed," he said.
"There wasn't a crime," Peter pointed out.
This threw the constable momentarily out of his stride. He thought again for some time, and presently asked:
"And you don't suspect no one in particular?"
Peter glanced at Charles, who said: "Rather difficult to say. I haven't any good reason to suspect anyone, but various people have been seen hanging about the Priory at different times."
"Ah!" said Mr. Flinders. "Now we are getting at something, sir. I thought we should. You'll have to tell me who you've seen hanging round, and then I shall know where I am."
"Well," said Charles. "There's Mr. Titmarsh to start with."
The constable's official cloak slipped from his shoulders. "Lor', sir, he wouldn't hurt a fly!" he said.
"I don't know what he does to flies," retorted Charles, "but he's death on moths."
Mr. Flinders shook his head. "Of course I shall have to follow it up," he said darkly. "That's what my duty is, but Mr. Titmarsh don't mean no harm. He was catching moths, that's what he was doing."