Sir Clinton’s expression grew momentarily stern; but the shade passed from his face almost instantly.
“This is one of these cases, Inspector, where I think that two heads are better than one. Now if I tell you what’s in my mind, it might tempt you to look at things exactly as I do; and then we’d have lost the advantage of having two brains at work on the business independently. We’re more likely to be usefully employed if we pool the facts and keep our interpretations separate from each other.”
The tone of the Chief Constable’s voice went a good way towards soothing the Inspector’s ruffled feelings, the more so since he saw the weight of Sir Clinton’s reasoning.
“I’m sorry, sir. I quite see your point now.”
Sir Clinton had the knack of leaving no ill-feelings in his subordinates. By an almost imperceptible change of manner, he dismissed the whole matter and restored cordiality again.
“Let’s get back to the pure facts, Inspector. Each of us must look at them in his own way; but we can at least examine some of them without biasing each other. Did you get any more information out of that chauffeur?”
Inspector Armadale seemed glad enough to forget the slight friction between himself and his Chief, as the tone of his voice showed when he replied.
“I could get nothing out of him at all, sir. He seems a stupid sort of fellow. But it was quite clear that somehow or other he’d picked up the idea that Foss meant to leave Ravensthorpe for good yesterday afternoon. He stuck to that definitely; and the packing up of his traps shows that he believed it.”
“We can take it, then, that Foss gave reason for the man thinking that he was going away. Put your own interpretation on that, Inspector; but you needn’t tell me what you make of it.”
The Inspector’s smile showed that ill-feeling had gone.