“As the castle belongs to me I do not think we need discuss that; if anyone is unlawfully intruding, it is you.”
He turned on an electric lamp, though the dawn shed a ghostly light into the room.
Sinclair broke the silence.
“I think we had better have a round-table conference. We wanted to make the final discovery first, but as things have gone so far, we had better have all the cards on the table.”
“But I don’t understand,” said Fletcher “if you know everything, who was the murderer, and who is this—gentleman?”
“As to the first question,” said Sinclair impatiently, “there is no doubt about that, and as to the other, you shall know. Now go off, and ask these people to come here at ten o’clock punctually. Remember, you have not done too well in this case, so I rely on you to carry out these instructions. You will ’phone for Sergeant Andrews and Brown. Use my name. Then you must get Southgate and Giles, and Mr. Sefton and his sister.” He looked at the old man, who nodded.
“Giles must come and tidy the place a bit and arrange a conference room. Everything hangs on that. Don’t forget. At ten o’clock.”
Fletcher went out like a man in a dream: What on earth was the meaning of it all? Even now he was as much in the dark as ever. Why this conference and who among those invited was the murderer? Also why had the very man of all others whom he suspected still, Halley, been omitted. Or, stay, was it because Sinclair had already got Halley? The thought thrilled him.
At any rate he had a job of work to do.
Thanks to old Giles’ efforts the library was transformed when the strange party began to arrive, and it looked more like a Board Room, with a large table and chairs set round it.