But when they had settled themselves in their easy chairs after dinner, he found that Sir Clinton evidently intended to reverse the rôles.
“Now then, Squire, you’re under no restraint of official secrecy. What do you make of the affair so far?”
“I see. I’m to be Watson, and then you’ll prove what an ass I am. I’m not over keen.”
Sir Clinton hastened to reassure him.
“I’m not going to poke fun at you merely for the sake of making you uncomfortable, Squire. It would really be some help if I could see the thing from a fresh point of view. Lord knows, I’m not infallible; and you may quite easily hit on something that’ll put a new light on things and prevent me making a bad mistake.”
The obvious sincerity of this was enough to placate Wendover. He had been cogitating deeply over the Whistlefield affair, and he felt that if he could not suggest a provable solution of the mystery, at least he could bring a reasonable amount of criticism to bear on the available evidence.
“What we have to account for,” he began, “are: first, the murder of the two Shandons; second, the burglary; third, the attack on Ernest Shandon; and, fourth, the so-called hanky-panky with the cheque.”
“That’s correct,” Sir Clinton agreed. “But suppose we leave out the cheque affair at present. We really know nothing definite about it yet.”
Wendover was dissatisfied with this ruling.
“It seems to me an essential part in the scheme of things. Let me put the case as I see it. Hackleton is at the back of the whole affair, I take it; but he’s been employing an agent; and that agent has been going beyond Hackleton’s instructions and has been operating on his own to a certain extent. I think that fits everything in the case.”