The sergeant had but a limited view of moral ethics where they conflicted with the interests of the police.
“He should not have kept your name from me,” he said. “But, apart from what you have told me, have you any reason for suspecting that Mr. Marsland had anything to do with the murder of Frank Lumsden?”
“That it was he who left the key in the door?”
“Well—yes.”
“If that is the case, his object in leaving the house for a few minutes might be to destroy traces of his guilt. But I saw nothing of a suspicious nature in his manner after I admitted him to the house.”
The sergeant was impressed with the closeness of her reasoning—it seemed to shed more light. Clearly she had given the matter the fullest consideration before deciding to make a statement.
She added with a slight laugh:
“You cannot call his action in feeling for a missing pair of glasses suspicious?”
“No, no,” said the sergeant generously. “We can scarcely call that suspicious.”
“What I do regard as suspicious—or, at any rate, as wanting in straightforwardness—is the fact that Mr. Marsland did not tell me that he knew Mr. Lumsden in France. They were both in the London Rifle Brigade—Mr. Marsland was a captain and Mr. Lumsden a private.”