“That is Sir George Granville with him—the stout elderly man,” said Inspector Payne.
“The other gentleman is Mr. Marsland,” said Sergeant Westaway.
“Which is Crewe and which is Marsland?” asked Inspector Payne.
“The tall one on the left is Crewe,” answered Detective Gillett.
As a police official, Inspector Payne was indignant at the idea of Crewe intruding into the case, but as a man he was delighted at the opportunity of meeting the famous private detective who had so often scored over Scotland Yard by unravelling mysteries which had baffled the experts of the London detective department. Crewe’s fame had even penetrated to Ashlingsea, and Sergeant Westaway studied the private detective with awed interest as the three occupants of the motor-car walked up the drive.
Inspector Payne had pictured Crewe as a more striking personality than the tall young man in tweeds who was accompanying Sir George Granville and his nephew. The latter was talking earnestly, and Crewe was listening closely. Inspector Payne had an opportunity of noting the distinction and character which marked the detective’s face in repose: the clear, clean-cut profile, the quick penetration and observation of his dark eyes as they took in the exterior of Cliff Farm. He concluded that Crewe was rather young for the fame he had achieved—certainly under forty: that he liked his face; that he looked like a gentleman; and that his tweed suit displayed a better cut than any provincial tailor had ever achieved.
His companion, Sir George Granville’s nephew, was a young man of Saxon type, fair-haired, blue-eyed, with a clear skin which had been tanned brown as the result of his war campaigning in France. He was two or three inches shorter than Crewe, but was well set up and well-built, and although he did not wear khaki his recent connection with the army was indicated by his military carriage and bearing.
After the necessary introductions Crewe explained with an air of modesty that, Sir George Granville’s nephew having had the misfortune to become associated with the tragedy through the discovery of the body, Sir George, as a public man, had conceived the idea that he ought to do something towards discovering the author of the crime. That was how he himself came to be present. He hoped that he would not be in the way of the police.
“Not at all; not at all,” said Inspector Payne, answering for the County Police. “We’ll be glad of your help. And as for anything we can do for you, Mr. Crewe, you have only to ask.”
“That is very kind of you,” said Crewe.