“Eh? What do you mean? You surely don’t mean—”
“Mr. Cosgrove’s room? Yes. Dr. Niblett and I will divide the sleepin’ there and beside the corpse.”
Cosgrove had occupied the east-projecting room furthest north in the older body of the House. Miss Mertoun’s, beyond it, is above the newly-built conservatory, and since, as I may have said, the conservatory does not extend the entire width of the house, Cosgrove’s room juts out, making a notched corner at that end of the mansion.
“But surely—”
“I’m leavin’ my superstitions out with my boots to-night,” observed Salt solemnly.
“But why not carry the body up there? I’ll have a bed made—”
Crofts gave it up after a while, though I am sure that not for a king’s ransom would he himself last night have occupied the narrow chamber that had been the Irishman’s. The voices became faint down the passage; the last I heard was Salt’s diminishing assurance.
“I took the liberty of usin’ your telephone. I gave the Chief Constable a stiff surprise. There are two of the county police—”
XII.
Noah’s Flood
Same day. 8.30 P.M.