"Why should I threaten? I'm warning you. Good night."
He was frowning as he drove back to Greythorne, and he was short with Felicity, who wanted to know why he had been such a time. On the following morning he went off immediately after breakfast and drove to Carchester, to the police station. He was conducted at once to Inspector Fraser's sanctum. The inspector greeted him with veiled hostility and said that he had expected to get a visit from him before this.
Mr. Amberley was in an uncompromising mood, and returned an answer so brusque that the inspector reddened with anger. Without giving Fraser time to recover he demanded an account of the police investigations up to date.
The inspector, knowing on whose side the chief constable was likely to be, thought it politic to obey. He took Mr. Amberley through a long list of perfect alibis first. Everyone at the manor had one, even the female staff. By the time that Amberley had heard that the headkeeper had been in Upper Nettleford, that the headgardener had visited the chauffeur, that the valet had been pressing a suit for Mr. Fountain, that the undergardener had been with his young lady, he was frankly yawning. When the inspector proposed to continue through a list of cottagers living near the scene of the murder, he cut the recital short and said that he had not come to Carchester to be told who had not committed the murder.
The inspector made an enigmatic reference to amateur detectives and passed on to the search for the cartridge-case. This had not been discovered, nor had any trace of bicycle wheels in the fields behind the hedge been found. The source of Dawson's income was equally wrapped in mystery. In fact, as Mr. Amberley had no hesitation in pointing out, the police had discovered nothing at all.
While the inspector digested this Amberley briefly recounted the story Fountain had told him the night before.
The inspector was interested. When Amberley had finished he rubbed his hands together and said: "Now we are getting to something. A pity Mr. Fountain didn't remember it sooner. To the trained mind, Mr. Amberley, what you've just told me is highly significant."
"Highly," agreed Amberley. "I wish you joy of it. In the meantime l want a man put on to watch Mark Brown."
The inspector stared at him for a moment. Then his features relaxed into an expression of tolerant amusement. "Mark Brown, eh, sir? Now, now, Mr. Amberley, I'm afraid you've been reading these popular thrillers. I know the style of thing. The mysterious young man who comes down to stay for no reason. But it won't do, you know. The police aren't quite asleep."
"Not all of them," said Mr. Amberley sweetly. "By the way, have you grasped it yet? I want a man put on to watch Mark Brown."