“A very sad case, that,” said Inspector Murchison to Sergeant Westaway.
“Eh—yes?” responded the sergeant absently, for he was thinking of other things.
“She’s Fanny Richards, the wife of Tom Richards, the saddler’s son,” continued the inspector. “I’ve known her since she was that high. Tom Richards was called up for service a little while ago, and his wife moved heaven and earth to get him exempted. She went to the right quarters too—she used to be housemaid there—but perhaps I’d better not mention names. At all events, the tribunal gave her husband total exemption. And what does her husband do? Is he grateful? Not a bit! Two days after the tribunal had exempted him the scoundrel cleared out—disappeared from the district with a chambermaid from one of the hotels on the front. I tell you, Westaway, the ingratitude of some of our sex to the women they have sworn to love and cherish makes me angry. But, however, you haven’t come from Ashlingsea to discuss the failings of human nature with me. What can I do for you?”
Before leaving Ashlingsea, Sergeant Westaway had withdrawn Miss Maynard’s statement from its official repository, and placed it carefully in his pocket-book. His hand wandered towards his breast pocket as he replied that his visit to Staveley was connected with the Cliff Farm case.
“And what is the latest news about that?” asked the inspector with interest.
It was the moment for Sergeant Westaway’s triumph, and he slowly drew his pocket-book from his breast pocket and extracted the statement.
“I have made an important discovery,” he announced, in a voice which he vainly strove to keep officially calm. “It affects a—well-known and leading gentleman of your district. This paper”—he flattened it out on the table with a trembling hand—“is a statement made by Miss Maynard of Ashlingsea, which implicates Mr. Marsland, the nephew of Sir George Granville.”
“In the Cliff Farm case?”
Sergeant Westaway nodded portentously, and wiped the perspiration from his forehead—for the office fire was hot and he had ridden fast.
Inspector Murchison took up the girl’s statement, and read it through. When he had finished it, he turned to the front page, and read it through again. Then he glanced up at his colleague gravely.