"This doesn't look like a place ordinary thieves would come to."
There was a shelf in one corner, with books on it, perhaps a score in all. Quarles took down every one of them, and opened them.
"John Parrish. Did you know his name was John?"
"No. He didn't mention his Christian name."
"Here it is, written in every book," said Quarles as he deliberately tore a fly-leaf out of one and began to put down on it the titles of some of the books. "Evidently he did not read much, the dust here is thick. Did he open his door with a key when you came in with him last night?"
"I couldn't swear to it."
"You see it does not lock of itself. He might have left it merely closed.
Did he go into the bedroom while you were here?"
"No."
"Then the murderer may have been there while you were with him. You have made enquiries about him in this building, of course?"
"Yes."