“The marks of the ladder-ends are there, clear enough,” he pointed out to Wendover, “and there’s the ladder itself down on the ground.”
He beckoned Stenness to his side.
“One of your own ladders, I suppose?”
Stenness examined it.
“Yes, I happen to recognise it. The gardeners use it, and it’s kept somewhere about the place.”
“Some soil on the window-sill,” Sir Clinton pointed out. “They must have picked it up on their boots from the flower-bed where the end of the ladder rests.”
“There’s some on the floor here, as well,” Stenness pointed out.
“So I see,” Sir Clinton confirmed, “but that might have been brought up by Mr. Shandon when you and he came in here. One can’t attach much importance to it.”
He said nothing more, and contented himself with a careful inspection of the room.
“I think I’ve seen all I want to see,” he said at last. “By the way, you haven’t a key of the Maze, have you? I noticed the iron gates at each entrance had locks on them. I want to go down there now and look round.”