He searched here and there in the landscape for a moment.
“There’s another of them, just where you see that stream running across the opening between the two spinneys—yonder. And there’s a third one, not far off that ruined tower. See it? I wonder if we could pick up any more. They seem to be thick enough on the ground. Yes, see that one in the glade over there? Not see it? Look at that grey cottage with the creeper on it; two o’clock; three fingers. See it now?”
“I can’t quite make it out, sir,” the Inspector confessed.
He seemed bored by Sir Clinton’s insistence on the matter; but he held up his hand and tried to discover the object. After a moment or two he gave up the attempt and, turning round, he noticed his Chief slipping a small compass into his pocket.
“Quite worth seeing, that view,” Sir Clinton remarked, imperturbably, as he made his way towards the turret stair. “Thanks very much, Cecil. I don’t think we need trouble you any more for the present; but I’d like to see your sister, if she’s available. I want to ask her a question.”
Cecil Chacewater went in search of Joan, and after a few minutes she met them at the foot of the stair.
“There’s just one point that occurred to me since you told us about that interview you and Maurice had with Foss before you went to the museum. You were sitting on the terrace, weren’t you?”
“Yes,” Joan confirmed.
“Then you must have seen Foss’s car drive up when it came to wait at the front door for him?”
“I remember seeing it come up just before we went to the museum. I didn’t say anything about it before. It didn’t seem to matter much.”