"Eh? What kind of noise?"
"Very slight. Like something moving."
"Like something! Like what thing? A cat or an elephant?"
"More like, say, a box or a piece of furniture."
"And you did--what?"
"I went up to the top landing and listened."
"What did you hear?"
"Nothing at all."
Chief Inspector Kerry chewed audibly.
"All quiet?" he snapped.
"Absolutely. But I'm certain I heard something all the same."
"How long had Inspector Whiteleaf and this dark horse in the fur coat
been gone at the time you heard the noise?"
"About half an hour, sir."
"Do you think the noise came from the landing or from one of the
offices above?"
"An office I should say. It was very dim."
Chief Inspector Kerry pushed upon the broken door, and walked into the
rooms of Kazmah. Flashing the ray of his torch on the wall, he found
the switch and snapped up the lights. He removed his overall and
tossed it on a divan with his cane. Then, tilting his bowler further
forward, he thrust his hands into his reefer pockets, and stood
staring toward the door, beyond which lay the room of the murder, in
darkness.
"Who is he?" he muttered. "What's it mean?"
Taking up the torch, he walked through and turned on the lights in the
inner rooms.
Pages:
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99