It was not the first time that Sinclair had accepted Collins’ hospitality, and he knew from experience what an excellent host he made.
Chapter VI.
At Leveson Square
The blinds were drawn at the house in Leveson Square, and a crowd was still gazing up at the blank windows. There is always something gruesome in drawn blinds, and the policeman standing at the door added to the air of mystery and dark deeds.
Collins and Sinclair, refreshed by an excellent breakfast, arrived in Collins’ car. They had been to the Yard first.
Within, the appearance of the house was as though a bomb had been dropped. All the oak panelling from the library was piled in the hall, with furniture and books. The library door was open, and the floor was covered with plaster. The men had made small holes in the ceiling at various places, as well as having examined the floor above. The search had been very thorough.
In a room upstairs lay the silent figure of the dead statesman.
It had been decided that the body should remain in the house and the doctor’s examination had taken place at the house.
A Home Office expert had conducted this, and the fussy little doctor, who had been summoned at the first, had wormed his way in to assist. He was full of importance.
They met the doctors in the dining-room.
“Well?” said Sinclair. “Have you found anything?”