"How d'ye mean?"
Warrington explained.
"What did the police say?"
"Said they were busy."
"Now, I could go to the club," mused Kirby, "and see Hetherington, and have a talk with him, and get him to sign a search-warrant. Armed with that, we could—"
"Perhaps persuade a police officer to send two constables with it to-morrow morning!" said Warrington, with a grin.
"Yes," said Kirby.
"And if we do much on our own account we'll fall foul of the Indian
Penal Code, which altereth every week," said Warrington.
"If it weren't for the fact that I particularly want a word with him," said Kirby, giving a last tweak to his tie and reaching out for his mess-jacket that the servant had laid on a chair, "there'd not be much ground that I can see for action of any kind. He has a right to go where he likes."
That point of view did not seem to have occurred to Warrington before; nor did he quite like it, for he frowned.