that some of the finger-prints have been identified."
Apparently he was wrong. "I hear, but I behold trouble and darkness," said Glass.
"The same might be said of all murder cases," replied Hannasyde tartly, and closed the interview.
----
Chapter Six
Hannasyde found his subordinate awaiting him in a cheerful mood. "Any luck your end, Chief?" he inquired. "I've had a fullish sort of a day myself."
"Yes, I got hold of a certain amount," Hannasyde replied. "Glass could find no trace of the weapon at Greystones, though, which is disappointing."
"He was probably too busy holding prayer meetings with himself to have time to look for the weapon," said the Sergeant. "How's he doing? I can see he's going to be my cross all right."
"As far as I can gather, you're likely to be his," said Hannasyde, with the ghost of a smile. "He made a somewhat obscure reference to forward hearts and perverse tongues which I took to mean you."
"He did, did he? Ah well, the only wonder to me is he didn't call me a hissing and an abomination. I daresay he will yet. I don't mind him reciting his pieces, though it isn't strictly in accordance with discipline, as long as he doesn't take it into his silly head I've got to be saved. I've been saved once, and that's enough for me. Too much!" he added, remembering certain features of this event. "Nasty little tracts about Lost Sheep, and the Evils of Drink," he explained. "It's a funny thing, but whenever you come up against any of these reforming chaps they always have it fixed in their minds you must be a walking lump of vice. You can't persuade 'em otherwise either. What you might call a Fixation."
Hannasyde, who knew that the Sergeant's study of his favourite subject had led his adventurous feet into a strange realm of bastard words and lurid theories, intervened hastily, and asked for an account of his day's labours.
"Well, it's been interesting, but like what Glass said about me: obscure," said the Sergeant. "Taking our friend Abraham Budd first, we come to the first unexpected feature of the case. When I got up to Headquarters this morning, what should I find but his lordship waiting for me on the mat."
"Budd?" said Hannasyde. "Do you mean he came here?"
"That's right, Chief. Came along as soon as he'd read the news in the evening paper. They'll start getting the evening editions out before breakfast soon, if you ask me. Anyway, Mr. Budd had his copy tucked under his arm, and was just oozing helpfulness."
"Do get on!" said Hannasyde. "Does he know something, or what?"
"Not so as you'd notice," responded the Sergeant. "According to him, he left the house by way of the garden-gate at about 9.35 p.m."
"That tallies with Mrs. North's account, at all events!" said Hannasyde.
"Oh, so you got something there, did you, Super?"
"Yes, but go on with your report. If Budd left at 9.35 he can't have seen anything, I suppose. What did he come to Scotland Yard for?"
"Funk," said the Sergeant tersely. "I've been reading a whole lot about causations, and that naturally made it as plain as a pikestaff to me -'
"Cut out the causations! What's Budd got to be frightened of? And don't hand me anything about Early Frustrations or Inhibitions, because I'm not interested! If you knew what you were talking about I could bear it, but you don't."
The Sergeant, accustomed to this lack of sympathy, merely sighed, and said with unimpaired good humour: "Well, I haven't, so far, got to the bottom of Mr. Budd's trouble. He calls himself an outside broker, and, by what I can make out, the late Ernest was in the habit of using him as a kind of cover-man every time he wanted to put through any deals which, strictly speaking, he oughtn't to have put through. At least, that's the way it looked to me, putting two and two together, and making allowances for a bit of coyness on friend Budd's part."
"I'd gathered that he was a broker. There are one or two copies of letters to him amongst Fletcher's papers, and a few of his
Apparently he was wrong. "I hear, but I behold trouble and darkness," said Glass.
"The same might be said of all murder cases," replied Hannasyde tartly, and closed the interview.
----
Chapter Six
Hannasyde found his subordinate awaiting him in a cheerful mood. "Any luck your end, Chief?" he inquired. "I've had a fullish sort of a day myself."
"Yes, I got hold of a certain amount," Hannasyde replied. "Glass could find no trace of the weapon at Greystones, though, which is disappointing."
"He was probably too busy holding prayer meetings with himself to have time to look for the weapon," said the Sergeant. "How's he doing? I can see he's going to be my cross all right."
"As far as I can gather, you're likely to be his," said Hannasyde, with the ghost of a smile. "He made a somewhat obscure reference to forward hearts and perverse tongues which I took to mean you."
"He did, did he? Ah well, the only wonder to me is he didn't call me a hissing and an abomination. I daresay he will yet. I don't mind him reciting his pieces, though it isn't strictly in accordance with discipline, as long as he doesn't take it into his silly head I've got to be saved. I've been saved once, and that's enough for me. Too much!" he added, remembering certain features of this event. "Nasty little tracts about Lost Sheep, and the Evils of Drink," he explained. "It's a funny thing, but whenever you come up against any of these reforming chaps they always have it fixed in their minds you must be a walking lump of vice. You can't persuade 'em otherwise either. What you might call a Fixation."
Hannasyde, who knew that the Sergeant's study of his favourite subject had led his adventurous feet into a strange realm of bastard words and lurid theories, intervened hastily, and asked for an account of his day's labours.
"Well, it's been interesting, but like what Glass said about me: obscure," said the Sergeant. "Taking our friend Abraham Budd first, we come to the first unexpected feature of the case. When I got up to Headquarters this morning, what should I find but his lordship waiting for me on the mat."
"Budd?" said Hannasyde. "Do you mean he came here?"
"That's right, Chief. Came along as soon as he'd read the news in the evening paper. They'll start getting the evening editions out before breakfast soon, if you ask me. Anyway, Mr. Budd had his copy tucked under his arm, and was just oozing helpfulness."
"Do get on!" said Hannasyde. "Does he know something, or what?"
"Not so as you'd notice," responded the Sergeant. "According to him, he left the house by way of the garden-gate at about 9.35 p.m."
"That tallies with Mrs. North's account, at all events!" said Hannasyde.
"Oh, so you got something there, did you, Super?"
"Yes, but go on with your report. If Budd left at 9.35 he can't have seen anything, I suppose. What did he come to Scotland Yard for?"
"Funk," said the Sergeant tersely. "I've been reading a whole lot about causations, and that naturally made it as plain as a pikestaff to me -'
"Cut out the causations! What's Budd got to be frightened of? And don't hand me anything about Early Frustrations or Inhibitions, because I'm not interested! If you knew what you were talking about I could bear it, but you don't."
The Sergeant, accustomed to this lack of sympathy, merely sighed, and said with unimpaired good humour: "Well, I haven't, so far, got to the bottom of Mr. Budd's trouble. He calls himself an outside broker, and, by what I can make out, the late Ernest was in the habit of using him as a kind of cover-man every time he wanted to put through any deals which, strictly speaking, he oughtn't to have put through. At least, that's the way it looked to me, putting two and two together, and making allowances for a bit of coyness on friend Budd's part."
"I'd gathered that he was a broker. There are one or two copies of letters to him amongst Fletcher's papers, and a few of his
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