“Mr. Harley,” he replied, “four days ago my butler, who is a Spaniard, brought me—” He pointed to the bat wing lying upon the blotting pad. “He had found it pinned to an oaken panel of the main entrance door.”
“Was it prior to this discovery, or after it,” asked Harley, “that you detected the presence of someone lurking in the neighbourhood of the house?”
“Before it.”
“And the burglarious entrance?”
“That took place rather less than a month ago. On the eve of the full moon.”
Paul Harley stood up and relighted his pipe.
“There are quite a number of other details, Colonel,” he said, “which I shall require you to place in my possession. Since I have determined to visit Cray’s Folly, these can wait until my arrival. I particularly refer to a remark concerning a neighbour of yours in Surrey.”
Colonel Menendez nodded, twirling his cigarette between his long, yellow fingers.
“It is a delicate matter, gentlemen,” he confessed.
“I must take time to consider how I shall place it before you. But I may count upon your arrival tomorrow?”