“To me? No, why should it?”
“I merely wondered,” said Sir Clinton, without seeming to notice anything.
It was clear that whatever Cecil knew, it was something which he was not prepared to tell.
Foxy had listened intently to Michael’s narrative, and as the Chief Constable seemed to have come to the end of his interrogations, Foxy put a question of his own.
“You say Maurice was wearing a white Pierrot costume? So was the fellow you were chasing. So was the man next me at the case when the lights went out.”
“I suppose you’re suggesting that Maurice is at the bottom of the business, Foxy,” Michael replied at once. “I’ll swallow that if you’ll answer one question. Why should a man burgle his own house?”
“Lord alone knows,” Foxy admitted humbly. “I’ve no brain-wave on the subject.”
“It seems rather improbable,” observed Sir Clinton. “I think you’ll have to produce a motive before that idea could be accepted.”
He glanced round at the door as he spoke and added:
“Here’s Maurice himself.”