“Bah!” broke in the Chief; “I bet that was Marbran’s idea. Look at Jeekes’s face and tell me if you see in it any feature indicating the bold, ingenious will to try a bluff like that. I never knew this fellow here. But I know Marbran, a resolute, undaunted type. You can take it from me, Marbran directed—Jeekes merely carried out instructions. What do you say, Manderton?”
But the detective had retired into his shell again.
“If you will come to Harkings with me the day after to-morrow, sir, I shall hope to show you exactly how Mr. Parrish met his death ...”
“No, no, Manderton,” responded the Chief; “I can’t leave here for a bit. There are bigger murderers than Jeekes at liberty in Holland to-day ...”
The detective slapped his thigh.
“I’d have laid a shade of odds,” he cried merrily, “that you were watching the gentleman at Amerongen, sir ...”
“Tut, tut, Manderton,” said the Chief, raising his hand to silence the other; “you run on too fast, my friend! I wish,” he went on, changing the subject, “I could be with you at Harkings to-morrow to witness your reconstruction of the crime, Manderton. You’ll go, I suppose, Greve?”
“I certainly shall,” answered the barrister, “I have had some experience of criminals, but I must say I never saw one less endowed with criminal characteristics than little Jeekes. A strange character!...”
The Chief laughed sardonically.
“Anyway,” he remarked, “he had a damn good notion of the end that befitted him ...”