the law the wars are fought for nowadays. Habeas Corpus and all that. This man Morrison hasnât even been proved to have got himself photographed in a false moustache and plagued you with copies of it, but even if he had I doubt if the act would constitute nuisance. That was why we hoped heâd speak to you. Once he had asked for money or uttered threats, some point in his performance would have appeared.â
She shook her head wonderingly and Luke exploded.
âWe were only within our rights in marching him off for questioning because the chump ran away,â he announced inelegantly. âIf heâd raised his hat and wandered off we could hardly have stopped him. The courts can be very mind-my-wig when they begin on the subject of police persecution of the marked man.â He threw in a brief but vivid impression of some legal dignitary who possessed a commanding manner, a throat infection, and a small but obtrusive corporation. âHowever, weâre on to the blighter now. He knows we are and â â
The trill of the telephone bell on the landing outside cut him short. Meg had sprung up at its first hesitant note. Her movement was unconscious, as was also her glance at the French clock on the mantelshelf. The golden hands showed the time as a few minutes before seven, and in the silence everyone remembered that Geoffrey Levett had promised her to telephone at five. Meanwhile a firm flat Midland voice was speaking in the passage outside.
âHallo, hallo. Aye, it is. But no, no, you canât speak to her. Iâm sorry.â The tone was patient but utterly uncompromising. âOh yes, Iâve got your name. Iâll remember. Yes, she has seen it. Aye, it was indeed a great shock. Someone playing the go-at. Not in good taste. No, I quite agree. Good-bye.â
The phone rang off and the tiny sound was followed by a bellow which would have carried across a playing-field. âMeg, lass!â
âYes, Uncle Sam?â
âThe Dowager Lady Totham, Park Street. Seventeen going up.â
âThank you, darling.â She sighed and reseated herself. âThatâs been happening all the time. Samâs keeping a list. I do hope Geoff doesnât keep finding this number engaged. Iâm sorry, Chief Inspector, what were you saying?â
Luke stood looking at her. His hands were in his pockets, his jacket hitched back into a flounce behind his narrow hips. His shoulders were flat and wide and his dark face glowed with the half-ferocious, half-condoning knowingness which was the essence of the man. He had clearly made up his mind to come clean.
âMrs Elginbrodde,â he demanded bluntly, âjust how well did you know that husband of yours when you married him?â
Mr Campionâs face became misleadingly blank and Amanda looked up, her brown eyes surprised and wary. They were hostile to Luke, and he was aware of it and used to hostility.
âWell, you see how it is,â he went on, taking the room into his confidence. âNow Iâve had a talk with Duds I see heâs a smooth piece. Nice voice. Plausible. May have come from a good home, as they say. May easily have had a very good war record.â
Canon Avril, who had been sitting very quietly in the darkest corner of the room, leant forward.
âIf youâre asking if he had ever had any serious illness or nervous trouble, we donât know,â he remarked. âI hadnât known him from boyhood and when his grandmother wrote me from France she did not mention anything of the kind. He was introduced here by a young nephew of mine soon after the war had started. Then, when he returned from the Middle East we saw a lot of him. I thought he and Meg were young to marry, but then life was shorter in those days. Youth is relative, after all.â
The D.D.C.I. hesitated, but his sophisticated eyes smiled at the old man.
âAs long as you satisfied yourself about the chap,
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