"Stole a car?"
"Stole Lord Wolverham's car and calmly drove away in it. We have
failed to trace both car and man!" The detective inspector sighed
wearily. "Well, I suppose I must get along to the Yard. Stokes
has got the laugh on me this time."
Wearing a very gloomy expression, the detective inspector
proceeded on foot to New Scotland Yard, and being informed on his
arrival upstairs that the Assistant Commissioner was expecting
him, he entered the office of that great man.
The Assistant Commissioner, who had palpably seen military
service, was a big man with very tired eyes, and a quiet, almost
apologetic manner.
"Ah, Detective Inspector," he said, as Wessex entered. "I wanted
to see you about this business of Mr. Nicol Brinn."
"Yes, sir," replied Wessex; "naturally."
"Now," the Assistant Commissioner turned wearily in his chair,
and glanced up at his subordinate--"your accepting the parole of
a suspect, under the circumstances, was officially improper, but
I am not blaming you--I am not blaming you for a moment. Mr.
Nicol Brinn's well-known reputation justified your behaviour." He
laid one large hand firmly upon the table. "Mr. Nicol Brinn's
absence alters the matter entirely."
"I am well aware of it," murmured the inspector. "Although,"
continued the Assistant Commissioner, "Mr. Brinn's record leads
me to believe that he will have some suitable explanation to
offer, his behaviour, you will admit, is that of a guilty man?"
"It is, sir; it certainly is.
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