“Four!” Goddard replied in a surprised tone. “The one at the front, two at the rear—kitchen and tradesmen’s entrances—and a smaller door at the side opening on the court that runs between this house and Orbit’s. But why do you ask? What are the clues you’ve found?”
Dennis coughed discreetly, and from behind the screen came McCarty’s voice.
“Is it yourself, Inspector?... Yes, me, McCarty.... No, at Goddard’s and you’re needed.... Wait a bit! Can you lay hands on both Martin and Yost?... Can’t talk now, sir. Get me?... All right, bring Martin along but send Yost over to—to Bill, 0565.... That’s it.... Maybe and maybe not.... Sure, I’ve been in touch with Bill and he knows the party I’m looking for. Tell Yost to wait and ’phone here if anything turns up.... Of course not, Inspector, till you take it in hand! ’Bye.”
The last had been straight blarney, but Dennis shivered as the receiver clicked on its hook. Well he knew that telephone number and the grim little house far over toward the river where, for a brief interval, the bluff, kindly Bill harbored the city’s unknown dead! Had the sickly little Goddard heir gone the way of Hughes after all?
“Why did you ask about the doors?” The conversation had evidently held only its obvious meaning for the man before them. “Horace must have been induced in some way to leave the house, for no one could have entered with Trafford and all the servants about!”
“He did leave, and by the side door,” McCarty held out the shattered little wristwatch. “Does this belong to the lad?”
“Good God, yes! He wore it yesterday!” Goddard seized it and then sank into his chair. “It’s—smashed! He must have been handled brutally, perhaps even—!”
“That don’t follow, sir!” McCarty interrupted. “The strap slips out of the buckle easy, for I tried it, and the lad might have dropped it without noticing. Anybody going to one of the back doors could have come along and trod on it after, for ’twas in the alley right in front of the door that I found it. And now—”
“Mrs. Goddard is awake and ready to see you now,” Trafford’s voice sounded from the threshold and Goddard started up once more.
“She knows there is no news?” he asked, and at the tutor’s nod added: “Come then, but don’t tax her beyond her strength and don’t mind any—any wild statements which she may make. My poor wife is almost out of her mind!”