“Quite enough for present purposes. Now, Inspector, how much do you really know? I mean, how many answers can you give? There are only seven questions in all. Take them one by one and let’s hear your answers.”
“It’s a pretty stiff catechism,” said the Inspector, looking again at his notebook. “I’ll have a try, though, if you give me time to think over it.”
Sir Clinton smiled at the qualification.
“Think it over, then, Inspector,” he said. “I’ll just go and set them to work with the dragging. They seem to be ready to make a start.”
He rose and walked down to the group at the edge of the pool.
“You know what’s wanted?” he asked. “Well, suppose we make a start. Get the raft out to about ten yards or so beyond the cave-mouth and begin by flinging the grapnel in as near the cliff-edge as you can. Then work gradually outwards. If it sticks, try again very slightly off the line of the last cast.”
He watched one or two attempts which gave no result and then turned back to the hillock again.
“Well, Inspector?” he demanded as he sat down and turned his eyes on the group engaged with the dragging operations. “What do you make of it?”
Inspector Armadale looked up from his notebook.
“That’s a sound little rhyme,” he admitted. “It lets you see what you don’t know and what you do know.”