residence, there was a coal hole from the street into the cellar. But that was sealed up years ago. No, this door is the only way down and the only way out.â
âWell, no one went down,â I said, âand certainly no one came out.â
âDoes it make any sense to you, Donaldson?â the inspector snapped at his sergeant.
âThereâs some funny business going on here,â said the sergeant, âbut I donât know what it is.â As he spoke his forehead crinkled, like a junior clerk struggling with a tricky clue in a
Times
crossword.
âHave you made a more thorough search for the weapon?â Jack asked.
âYes, yes, yes,â groaned the inspector. âFirst thing we did. Itâs not a big cellar, and itâs almost bare. Donaldson, Dixon and I went over it very carefully. The weapon that young Grimm stabbed himself withâif, that is, he did stab himselfâhas definitely disappeared.â
As he said the words âstab himselfâ Ruth Jarvis howled again. Clearly this was going to drag on for some time, so I walked over to one of the straight-backed wooden chairs and sat down, stretching my legs out in front of me.
âCome along, inspectorâthis is getting us nowhere,â said Jack. âThe facts are the facts, and we can sit around talking about them until doomsday and they wonât change.â
The inspector didnât like this and he responded by saying that we would be required as witnesses and were not to leave the town at least for the next few days. Then he looked at his watch and asked, âHow long has Ravenswood been locked in that strongroom now?â
âNo more than half an hour,â I said. âThe teller told us there was plenty of air in the vault and the man with the combination should be here early this afternoon.â
âIn fact, we should check that vault door. Donaldson, you come with me. Dixon you stay here and keep an eye on . . . these people.â
As they disappeared back into the cellar, Warnie muttered, âI say, Jack. Does this mean that weâre suspects or something?â
âItâs not âsomethingâ, itâs definitely âsuspectsâ. After all, this is a small town and weâre the outsiders,â Jack replied.
âI think itâs quite offensive,â puffed Warnie. âYouâre an Oxford don, Iâm an officer in the British Army. Itâs outrageous that we should be treated as suspects.â
A few minutes later the inspector and his sergeant reappeared.
âWell?â asked Jack. âWhat did you find?â
âThat vault door is locked up as strong as a prison.â With these words Inspector Hyde ran his fingers through his thinning hair. âWell, Iâm beaten,â he muttered. âThis is too much for me. Iâm going to phone the Chief Constable and get permission to call in Scotland Yard.â
SIX
The question then arose of what was to be done with us. The inspector decided that we should find ourselves some accommodation for the night and make ourselves available tomorrow for the man from Scotland Yard.
âWhere were you planning to stay?â he asked.
âNot here,â said Jack firmly. âNot in Market Plumpton.â
âWell, youâre staying here now,â insisted the inspector, looking like a small, pugnacious rat trying to herd a crowd of larger and more important rats into a corner. âIn the light of whatâs happened, gentlemen, youâll have to revise your plans. Dixon, escort these men to
The Boarâs Head
.â
âYes, sir,â said the constable, unlocking and opening the front door of the bank and standing back to allow us through.
Behind us we could hear the inspector making his phone call to the Chief Constable. âColonel Weatherly? Itâs Inspector Hyde, sir . . . ah, we have a problem . . . â
But we heard no more, for Constable Dixon was