“My sense of humour has failed me entirely,” replied Harley. “I am merely stating bald facts in reply to your questions.”
“Oh, I see.”
The Inspector cleared his throat.
“Someone broke into Cray’s Folly, then, a fact which was not reported to me, a suspicious loiterer was seen in the grounds, again not reported, and someone played a silly practical joke by nailing the wing of a bat, you say, to the door. Might I ask, Mr. Harley, why you mention this matter? The other things are serious, but why you should mention the trick of some mischievous boy at a time like this I can’t imagine.”
“No,” said Harley, wearily, “it does sound absurd, Inspector; I quite appreciate the fact. But, you see, Colonel Menendez regarded it as the most significant episode of them all.”
“What! The bat wing nailed on the door?”
“The bat wing, decidedly. He believed it to be the token of a negro secret society which had determined upon his death, hence my enquiries regarding coloured men in the neighbourhood. Do you understand, Inspector?”
Inspector Aylesbury took a large handkerchief from his pocket and blew his nose. Replacing the handkerchief he cleared his throat, and:
“Am I to understand,” he enquired, “that the late Colonel Menendez had expected to be attacked?”
“You may understand that,” replied Harley. “It explains my presence in the house.”