“Mr. Sefton, you are behaving in a strange way,” said Andrews sternly.
“Are you bringing an accusation against me?”
“Not at present,” said the sergeant gravely, “but I think it would be better for you to be open with us. All three of us saw you distinctly go to The Red Cote and open it with a key this very evening, though how you got out is a mystery. Some few days ago Mr. Summers, in company with a man, we know now to be yourself, was seen to go into the same bungalow. If there is a plain, straightforward explanation, why do you not tell us?”
Sefton looked round like a hunted animal.
“I tell you there is no crime and no mystery, and in a few days I can clear the matter up; at present I will say nothing.”
Halley had approached the girl during this conversation, and stood as though protecting her; he now spoke for the first time.
“I am quite sure that Mr. Sefton is only keeping you in ignorance of the facts from some perfectly honourable motive,” said he quietly.
Brown the constable started, and looked at Halley as though he had seen a ghost, his face became suffused with red, and Fletcher turned in surprise to him. “What is the matter, Brown?” he said.
The constable collected himself. “Nothing, sir,” he said “but I could have sworn …”
He was interrupted by Sergeant Andrews.