I remained silent for a moment, thinking rapidly.
"Very well, Sergeant," I said. "I will be ready almost at once. I must have a word with Commander Dean first; we are just settling up some rather important business." I crossed to the sideboard and fetched a couple of glasses. "Help yourselves to a whisky," I added. "I shan't keep you more than two or three minutes."
They both murmured their thanks, and, motioning Bobby to follow me, I walked into the dining-room and closed the door behind me.
I couldn't have controlled myself much longer.
"The devils!" I said hoarsely. "The infernal devils! They've murdered him, just as they murdered Satan."
Bobby laid his hand on my shoulder. "It's a rotten business, but we mustn't lose our heads, Jack. We've got to decide what we're going to do."
"I feel as if it were all my fault," I muttered. "I ought to have killed Manning yesterday when I had the chance."
"What the hell would have been the good of that?" demanded Bobby impatiently. He thrust his hands into his pockets and took a couple of rapid turns up and down the room. "Look here, old son," he went on quietly. "We haven't any time to spare, so the sooner we fix things up the better. In the first place, what are you going to tell the police?"
"Nothing," I said curtly. "There's only one other person in this beside ourselves, and that's Inspector Campbell. I shall go up to London as soon as I can and put the whole thing in front of him."
He nodded his approval. "Just what I was about to propose. There'll be the very devil to pay if these local people get hold of the faintest idea of the truth." He paused. "You must lie to them for all you're worth," he added. "You must make them believe that no suspicion of foul play has ever entered your head. I'll stop here and look after the place until you get back."