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the policeman with alacrity. “It’s a do, my lord.”

Chapter VI
    Shortage of Suspects
    Inspector Creighton waited until the Bishop was safely down the stairs and out of the police station. Then he went quickly out of the back door, got into a police car, and drove to Baston Aerodrome. His purpose was the not very trustful one of getting to the aerodrome before the Bishop had time to tell anyone of the new development in the aerodrome accident.
    It may be wondered why the Inspector did not request the Bishop himself not to reveal the information until asked to do so. It is unfortunately necessary to record that Inspector Creighton was deeply distrustful of everyone, even of clergymen, when engaged in the prosecution of an investigation. In excuse it must be admitted that the Inspector had had some experience of requesting persons to keep a confidence strictly, such persons invariably supposing that it is in their discretion to communicate the information in strict confidence to other persons, those other persons thinking the same.
    His first call was on Miss Sackbut, who winced when she saw his familiar figure appear on the aerodrome.
    â€œWho’s been low-flying now?” she asked wearily. “I suppose it’s Miss Miffin complaining that club members keep on banging against her roof and knocking her tiles down so that she has to take refuge under the drawing-room table.”
    The Inspector gave a sickly grin at the recollection.
    â€œI’m afraid it is more serious than that, Miss Sackbut. Certain facts have come to light,” he said formally, “that make it necessary for me to institute further enquiries into the case of George Furnace’s decease.”
    â€œDamn that Bishop!” exclaimed Sally warmly. “And I thought he was such a nice, kindly man! Damn Lady Laura too! I believe she forged that letter, Inspector.”
    â€œIndeed, miss. Well, we might go into that later. First of all, I should like to interview the three gentlemen who got Furnace’s body out of the aeroplane.”
    â€œLet me see. Ness is giving a top overhaul to BT’s engine. He’ll be in the engine shop. That’s the little lean-to behind the main hangar. Tommy Vane’s up with our new instructor, Flight-Lieutenant Winters. He’ll be down soon. I’m afraid Randall’s not about. Wait a minute, though. He went out on a charter job for Gauntlett’s Air Taxis. He’ll be popping back this afternoon. It was only over to Paris, and he left early this morning, just after dawn.”
    â€œThank you, miss. Well, then, I’ll go round and find them.”
    â€œRight; I’ll go with you,” said Sally, getting up.
    â€œI needn’t trouble you, thank you. No doubt you’ll be very busy.”
    â€œIt doesn’t matter,” she said.
    â€œVery well.” The Inspector, purposely misunderstanding her, walked rapidly away before Sally could put on her hat.
    Sally stared after him. “What the devil is he up to?” she muttered. “Wait till I see that Bishop!”
    The Inspector came upon Mr. Ness grinding-in a valve to the mournful strains of some unrecognizable melody. He looked surprised when Inspector Creighton peered in with a murmured apology.
    â€œMay I have a word with you, Mr. Ness?” remarked the Inspector formally.
    â€œUh-huh,” agreed Mr. Ness.
    The Inspector explained that he had decided to make further investigations into the death of George Furnace. It now appeared that it may not have been an accident.
    The red-headed man grunted.
    â€œSomething has come to light which suggests that the cause of death might have been…” The Inspector hesitated and Mr. Ness looked up.
    â€œSuicide,” finished Creighton. Under his scrutiny the ground engineer’s face showed no sign of relief, or, in fact, of any emotion.
    â€œNaturally, such a suggestion means we have to turn over everything from top to