"
All the unconscious note of command that long-inherited wealth and
the pride of a great name can give was in her voice, and the
detective, for the moment, bowed before it, defeated. Perhaps he
thought of men who had been broken from the Force for injudicious
arrests, perhaps he merely bided his time. At any rate, he gave up
his grilling of Dale for the present and turned to question the
Doctor and Beresford who had just returned, with Jack Bailey, from
their grim task of placing Fleming's body in a temporary resting
place in the library.
"Well, Doctor?" he grunted.
The Doctor shook his head
"Poor fellow--straight through the heart."
"Were there any powder marks?" queried Miss Cornelia.
"No--and the clothing was not burned. He was apparently shot from
some little distance--and I should say from above."
The detective received this information without the change of a
muscle in his face. He turned to Beresford--resuming his attack
on Dale from another angle.
"Beresford, did Fleming tell you why he came here tonight?"
Beresford considered the question.
"No. He seemed in a great hurry, said Miss Ogden had telephoned
him, and asked me to drive him over."
"Why did you come up to the house?"
"We-el," said Beresford with seeming candor, "I thought it was
putting rather a premium on friendship to keep me sitting out in
the rain all night, so I came up the drive--and, by the way!" He
snapped his fingers irritatedly, as if recalling some significant
incident that had slipped his memory, and drew a battered object
from his pocket.
Pages:
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165