This he put into his
mouth, and returned the packet to its resting-place. A slim, trim
figure, he stood looking round him reflectively.
"Now," he muttered, "what about it?"
CHAPTER VIII
KERRY CONSULTS THE ORACLE
The clock of Brixton Town Hall was striking the hour of 1 a.m. as
Chief Inspector Kerry inserted his key in the lock of the door of his
house in Spenser Road.
A light was burning in the hallway, and from the little dining-room on
the left the reflection of a cheerful fire danced upon the white paint
of the half-open door. Kerry deposited his hat, cane, and overall upon
the rack, and moving very quietly entered the room and turned on the
light. A modestly furnished and scrupulously neat apartment was
revealed. On the sheepskin rug before the fire a Manx cat was dozing
beside a pair of carpet slippers. On the table some kind of cold
repast was laid, the viands concealed under china covers. At a large
bottle of Guinness's Extra Stout Kerry looked with particular
appreciation.
He heaved a long sigh of contentment, and opened the bottle of stout.
Having poured out a glass of the black and foaming liquid and
satisfied an evidently urgent thirst, he explored beneath the covers,
and presently was seated before a spread of ham and tongue, tomatoes,
and bread and butter.
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