“Yes, but before I do that I am going to make a search of the farm for clues.”
“But you have already done that. Westaway told me that he and Heather put in two days searching the buildings and the ground round the house.”
“Inspector, you are not quite equal to the demands of the situation,” said the Scotland Yard man patronizingly. “Westaway, myself and Heather searched the house, the outbuildings and the grounds for clues—for traces left behind unwittingly by the murderer. Our impression then was that the murderer had got away as soon as he could—everything pointed to that. But in the light of this girl’s statement we must now search for clues purposely hidden by the murderer. What was Marsland doing when he went outside the house and left the key in the door so as to let himself in again? Hiding something, of course! And where would he hide it?
“There is only one place we haven’t searched, and that is the well,” continued Gillett. “The reason I didn’t have it emptied before was because I was not looking for hidden traces—the circumstances of the crime suggested that the murderer had gone off with the weapon that ended Lumsden’s life. But this girl’s statement showed that Marsland went out of the house and came back. What was he doing while he was outside? This is what I am going to find out.”
“I’ll go up to the farm with you,” said the inspector. “I want to see what comes of this. I want to know what I’ve got to say to Sir George Granville.”
“You’ve got to say nothing; you leave it to me,” said Detective Gillett. “How long will it take to get the well emptied, Westaway?”
“Four or five hours ought to be long enough, if I can get a couple of good men,” said the sergeant.
“See about it at once. Send Heather up with the men to superintend. We will drive out there this afternoon. I have some inquiries to make in the village this morning, and I must also see Miss Maynard.”
Gillett, after interviewing Miss Maynard and having his lunch with Inspector Murchison at The Black-Horned Sheep, got into an antiquated hooded vehicle, drawn by a venerable white horse, which Sergeant Westaway hired at the inn to take them to Cliff Farm. The innkeeper, who, like all the rest of the town, was bursting with curiosity to learn the latest developments in the case, had eagerly volunteered to drive the police officers up to the farm, but Sergeant Westaway, determined that village gossip should learn nothing through him, had resolutely declined the offer, and drove the equipage himself. They set off with half the village gaping at them from their doors.
Sergeant Westaway had intended to ask Detective Gillett for details concerning his interview with Miss Maynard, but he found that the sluggish and ancient quadruped between the shafts needed incessant urging and rein-jerking to keep him moving at all. This gave him no time for conversation with the detective, who was seated in the back of the vehicle with Inspector Murchison.