“It’s something to go on, isn’t it?” Austin countered. He had decided to take counsel with Snell upon that problem he was endeavouring to solve, and the detective had listened in silence to his account of the interview with Cacciola and Maddelena, and the curious incident that had terminated it.
“Well, if you want my opinion,” said Snell dryly, “it is that you’ve discovered—or created—quite a nice little mare’s nest.”
“Now see here, Snell, you’re simply prejudiced!”
“Not at all, Mr. Starr. If there’s one thing I pride myself on more than another it is on never being prejudiced. And if you think I did not, at the very outset, satisfy myself—yes, and my superiors too—that neither Melikoff and his associates nor the old Signor and his household had anything at all to do with the murder of Lady Rawson, I can only assure you that you’re jolly well mistaken!”
“You’ve got it fixed up in your mind that Roger Carling is guilty, and you won’t look any further,” Austin said bitterly.
“I haven’t. It’s for a jury to decide whether he’s guilty or innocent. And if you or anyone else can point to any clue in any other direction that I haven’t followed up and sifted I’ll go to work again instantly. As for the Russians——” He touched an electric button on his table, scribbled a few words on a card, and handed it to the clerk who entered. “As you aren’t inclined to believe me, and as I know you’re to be trusted, I’m going to let you look through the dossiers for yourself. You mustn’t make any notes, of course.”
“That’s very good of you. But what about the person who was in the flat?”
“Old Madam Giulia—queer old girl too; what a fuss she made in the witness-box, even for a foreigner!—or perhaps even Melikoff himself, who thought he’d like to hear what you were all yarning about, and scooted as soon as you moved.”
“Impossible! Neither of them could have got down the long passage and into bed, apparently asleep, in the time. If I’d only thought of the hall door first we should have caught whoever it was. But I didn’t, and we never heard a sound. The tray clattered some as I set it down or I’d have heard the click of the lock. And what about that key that Melikoff gave Lady Rawson and she lost, or gave away?”
“That’s really the only point worth anything at all, and I doubt if it’s worth much. What a fool Melikoff was to give her that key, and the old signor to allow it. That the lot?”—as the clerk re-entered bringing several neatly arranged sets of papers. “All right, leave them for the present. Now, Mr. Starr, here you are. Take your time.”