CHAPTER XV.
SHADOWS
Robert Greve stood for an instant in silence by the window of his rooms. His fingers hammered out a tattoo on the pane. His eyes were fixed on the windows of the chambers across the court. But they did not take in the pleasant prospect of the tall, ivy-framed casements in their mellow setting of warm red brick. He was trying to fix a mental photograph of a letter—typewritten on paper of dark slatey blue—which he had seen on Hartley Parrish’s desk in the library at Harkings on the previous afternoon.
Prompted by Bruce Wright, he could now recall the heading clearly. “ELIAS VAN DER SPYCK & Co., GENERAL IMPORTERS, ROTTERDAM,” stood printed before his eyes as plainly as though he still held the typewritten sheet in front of him. But the mind plays curious tricks. Robin’s brain had registered the name; yet it recorded no impression of the contents of the letter. Beyond the fact that it dealt in plain commercial fashion with some shipments or other, he could recall no particular whatever of it.
“But where did you get hold of this sheet of paper?” Bruce Wright’s voice broke in impatiently behind him. “I’m most frightfully interested to know ...”
“Found it on the floor beside Parrish’s body,” answered Robin briefly. “There was a letter, too, on the same paper ...”
“By Gad!” exclaimed the boy eagerly, “have you got that too?”
Robin shook his head.
“It was only your story that made me think of it. I had the letter. But I left it where I found it—on Parrish’s desk in the library ...”
“But you read it ... you know what was in it?”
Robin shrugged his shoulders.