“That’ll be the handsome, middle-aged flirt and the son who cut him out with Mrs. Bellamy,” McCarty observed.
“How in the world—?” Dennis’ lantern jaw hung relaxed and the inspector glanced up quickly.
“’Twas as plain as the nose on your face!” McCarty exclaimed impatiently. “Let’s go on: Number Seven, next to the Sloanes’, is the Parsons’. That’s where this Benjamin Parsons lives, who you thought owned the hat Hughes was wearing, isn’t it, sir?”
“Yes. That hat is still a factor in the case, don’t forget that!” The inspector bent again over the diagram and indicated the final space. “This house, the end of the Mall on the north, belongs to the Quentin family, and two branches of it are fighting over the property; it’s been unoccupied and in litigation for some years. I’m going to call at Mrs. Bellamy’s now and interview her butler; want to come along?”
Dennis rose precipitately and stretched a long arm to the mantel for his hat, but McCarty said with quick decision:
“We’ll go through the gates with you, sir, so that you can square us with the day watchman, but I think we’d best prowl around for awhile and not interfere with you. We might drop in at the Orbit house later to see if any of the other servants can talk a bit more than Ching Lee.”
“If you do, be sure not to mention the autopsy, nor the fact that it is even suspected Hughes’ death wasn’t a natural one,” warned the inspector as they passed out to the stairs. “I’ll probably meet you there later.”
They entered the Mall by way of the western gate this time and the private watchman on duty now proved to be younger and less obviously impressed by the dignity of his office than the one encountered the night before. He had evidently been apprised of their possible coming and readily assented to the inspector’s demand that his two deputies be admitted in future without question. When the official himself had proceeded to the Bellamy house McCarty turned with an affable smile to the watchman and tendered a cigar.
“Have a smoke?”
“Thanks, but I’ll have to keep it till later.” He was a tall, muscular young giant with a good-natured, not too intelligent countenance and he grinned in an embarrassed fashion at the overture. Then the grin faded and he added in low tones: “They haven’t brought Alfred Hughes’ body back yet; I’ve been watching for it all morning.”