"Her husband's wire would
reach her first thing this morning; I am expecting to hear of a reply at
any moment."
"They're a funny couple, altogether," said Sowerby. "I can't imagine
myself standing for Mrs. Sowerby spending her week-ends in Paris. Asking
for trouble, I call it!"
"It does seem a daft arrangement," agreed Dunbar; "but then, as you say,
they're a funny couple."
"I never saw such a bundle of nerves in all my life!"...
"Leroux?"
Sowerby nodded.
"I suppose," he said, "it's the artistic temperament! If Mrs. Leroux
has got it, too, I don't wonder that they get fed up with one another's
company."
"That's about the secret of it. And now, I shall be glad, Sowerby, if
you will be after that taxi-man again. Report at one o'clock. I shall be
here."
With his hand on the door-knob: "By the way," said Sowerby, "who the
blazes is Mr. King?"
Inspector Dunbar looked up.
"Mr. King," he replied slowly, "is the solution of the mystery."
VII
THE MAN IN THE LIMOUSINE
The house of the late Horace Vernon was a modern villa of prosperous
appearance; but, on this sunny September morning, a palpable atmosphere
of gloom seemed to overlie it. This made itself perceptible even to the
toughened and unimpressionable nerves of Inspector Dunbar.
Pages:
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62