mean…”
“Yes,” Hamilton whispered, “I do mean.” He glanced around the pub to make sure there were no ladies in earshot who might be offended by his next words. “According to Sadie, Mr. Dapeers accused Mrs. Dapeers of carryin’ on with the Reverend Ballantine. What’s worse, the man is young enough to be her son.”
CHAPTER 5
Witherspoon was beginning to think his inner voice had gone mute. But no, he mustn’t doubt himself. As his housekeeper always said, “You never give yourself enough credit, Inspector.” He decided to be patient. Surely, this investigation would start making sense at some point.
He glanced at Barnes. The constable was staring out the window, his gaze fixed on the courtyard below. Barnes sniffed the air appreciatively, apparently enjoying the pervasive scent of beer. They were in the offices of Bestal’s Brewery.
“Did the clerk say he was going to go and get Mr. Pump?” Witherspoon inquired. “Seems we’ve been waiting an awful long time.”
Barnes reluctantly turned away from the window. “It’s only been a few minutes, sir.”
“I’m dreadfully sorry to have kept you waiting,” a voice said from the open doorway.
Startled, Witherspoon whirled about and saw a ratherplump gentleman with a full black beard advancing toward him.
The man extended his hand as he approached. “I’m Luther Pump,” he said politely. “Mr. Magil will be along in a minute. He’s out in the yard.”
“I’m Inspector Witherspoon from Scotland Yard and this is Constable Barnes,” The inspector replied as they shook hands.
“I know who you are. We saw you the other night when we were at the Gilded Lily. Do sit down, gentlemen.” Pump waved at a couple of chairs in front of a huge desk. He went round behind the desk and sat down. “I know why you’re here, and I must say, I don’t think I can be of much help. Mr. Magil and I only met Mr. Dapeers that night. We were dreadfully shocked about what happened, of course. Dreadfully shocked.”
“Naturally.” Witherspoon smiled politely. “Murder is always very upsetting. Let me assure you, sir, we won’t take much of your time. We’ve only a few routine questions to ask you.”
“It may be routine to you, Inspector,” Pump said. “But it’s rather upsetting for me, I’ve never been involved in this sort of thing before. But do go on and make your inquiries.”
“First of all,” the inspector said slowly, “why were you at Mr. Dapeers’s pub that evening?”
“He’d invited us to come round,” Pump said. He hesitated. “Actually, he hadn’t so much invited us as, well, this is most awkward. Perhaps I shouldn’t say any more until Mr. Magil gets here. He’s better at explaining this sort of thing than I am.”
“I’m here now.” Edward Magil strode into the room, dusting his hands off as he walked. “Good day, gentlemen,” he said, pulling another chair up next to Pump’sdesk and quickly seating himself. “I’m Edward Magil.”
“Yes, we assumed as much,” Witherspoon replied. He glanced at Barnes to see if the constable had his notebook out. Barnes was already scribbling in it.
“I’ve just asked Mr. Pump why you were at the Gilded Lily on the night of the murder,” the inspector said. “He seems a bit unsure—”
“We were at the Gilded Lily because Haydon Dapeers had written us a letter.”
“A letter?”
“Yes,” Magil said firmly. “A letter about a matter of grave concern to us.”
Witherspoon straightened his spine. Now they were getting somewhere. Yes, indeed, he would finally start getting some answers. “Grave concern?” he echoed.
“Indeed,” Magil replied. “Inspector, how much do you know about the pub business?”
Witherspoon blinked. He knew as much as any policeman about the licensing laws and those sorts of matters. What else was there to know? “Well, I think I’m as well-informed as—”
Magil waved his hand impatiently. “I’m sure you are,” he interrupted,
“Yes,” Hamilton whispered, “I do mean.” He glanced around the pub to make sure there were no ladies in earshot who might be offended by his next words. “According to Sadie, Mr. Dapeers accused Mrs. Dapeers of carryin’ on with the Reverend Ballantine. What’s worse, the man is young enough to be her son.”
CHAPTER 5
Witherspoon was beginning to think his inner voice had gone mute. But no, he mustn’t doubt himself. As his housekeeper always said, “You never give yourself enough credit, Inspector.” He decided to be patient. Surely, this investigation would start making sense at some point.
He glanced at Barnes. The constable was staring out the window, his gaze fixed on the courtyard below. Barnes sniffed the air appreciatively, apparently enjoying the pervasive scent of beer. They were in the offices of Bestal’s Brewery.
“Did the clerk say he was going to go and get Mr. Pump?” Witherspoon inquired. “Seems we’ve been waiting an awful long time.”
Barnes reluctantly turned away from the window. “It’s only been a few minutes, sir.”
“I’m dreadfully sorry to have kept you waiting,” a voice said from the open doorway.
Startled, Witherspoon whirled about and saw a ratherplump gentleman with a full black beard advancing toward him.
The man extended his hand as he approached. “I’m Luther Pump,” he said politely. “Mr. Magil will be along in a minute. He’s out in the yard.”
“I’m Inspector Witherspoon from Scotland Yard and this is Constable Barnes,” The inspector replied as they shook hands.
“I know who you are. We saw you the other night when we were at the Gilded Lily. Do sit down, gentlemen.” Pump waved at a couple of chairs in front of a huge desk. He went round behind the desk and sat down. “I know why you’re here, and I must say, I don’t think I can be of much help. Mr. Magil and I only met Mr. Dapeers that night. We were dreadfully shocked about what happened, of course. Dreadfully shocked.”
“Naturally.” Witherspoon smiled politely. “Murder is always very upsetting. Let me assure you, sir, we won’t take much of your time. We’ve only a few routine questions to ask you.”
“It may be routine to you, Inspector,” Pump said. “But it’s rather upsetting for me, I’ve never been involved in this sort of thing before. But do go on and make your inquiries.”
“First of all,” the inspector said slowly, “why were you at Mr. Dapeers’s pub that evening?”
“He’d invited us to come round,” Pump said. He hesitated. “Actually, he hadn’t so much invited us as, well, this is most awkward. Perhaps I shouldn’t say any more until Mr. Magil gets here. He’s better at explaining this sort of thing than I am.”
“I’m here now.” Edward Magil strode into the room, dusting his hands off as he walked. “Good day, gentlemen,” he said, pulling another chair up next to Pump’sdesk and quickly seating himself. “I’m Edward Magil.”
“Yes, we assumed as much,” Witherspoon replied. He glanced at Barnes to see if the constable had his notebook out. Barnes was already scribbling in it.
“I’ve just asked Mr. Pump why you were at the Gilded Lily on the night of the murder,” the inspector said. “He seems a bit unsure—”
“We were at the Gilded Lily because Haydon Dapeers had written us a letter.”
“A letter?”
“Yes,” Magil said firmly. “A letter about a matter of grave concern to us.”
Witherspoon straightened his spine. Now they were getting somewhere. Yes, indeed, he would finally start getting some answers. “Grave concern?” he echoed.
“Indeed,” Magil replied. “Inspector, how much do you know about the pub business?”
Witherspoon blinked. He knew as much as any policeman about the licensing laws and those sorts of matters. What else was there to know? “Well, I think I’m as well-informed as—”
Magil waved his hand impatiently. “I’m sure you are,” he interrupted,
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