'Unlikely, I know, but…'
'But what?'
'We must make absolutely sure,' he said gravely, 'that you and I are not brother and sister. I have every intention of marrying you and that's the only thing which could stop me.'
She laughed at last. 'Not allowed outside ancient Egypt?'
'The word is, I believe, taboo.'
Henrietta led the way up to the front door, still laughing.
She stopped as soon as she opened it.
'Whatever's the matter?' enquired Bill quickly. 'You've gone quite white.'
She stood stockstill on the doorstep.
'Someone's been in here,' she said, 'since I left last night.'
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
There was no question of either of them having a meal. It was offered by the Principal of Boleyn College and seconded by the Bursar. Even in the ordinary way Inspector Sloan (if not Detective Constable Crosby) would have refused an invitation to sit down with three hundred young ladies of academic bent. Today was not ordinary. Their one aim was to get back to Calleshire with all possible speed. They hurried away from the dreaming spires without so much as a backward glance and got out on the open road.
'Hibbs,' said Crosby glumly.
'Mantriot,' countered Sloan.
Crosby executed a driving manoeuvre between two lorries and an articulated trailer which he had not learnt at the police motoring school.
'It isn't going to help our investigations, constable,' said Sloan testily, 'if we none of us live to find out Mantriot.'
'No, sir.' Crosby lifted his foot off the accelerator a frac'I think I know something already.'
'You what?'
'The name, sir, it rings a bell.'
'In what way?'
'I don't know.'
'Then think.'
'Yes, sir.'
There was a short silence in the police car while Constable Crosby thought. This did not preclude him overtaking a sports car at a speed Sloan did not relish.
'If,' said Sloan, 'you would think any better away from the wheel, I will take it.'
'That's all right, sir, thank you. I don't have to think about my driving.'
'I noticed,' said Sloan sweetly.
There was another silence while they ate up the miles at a speed which was specifically forbidden at the police motoring school.
Crosby was observed to be frowning.
'Well?' said Sloan hopefully.
'It's in the past somewhere, sir.'
'I know that.'
'I mean what I remember.'
Sloan did not attempt to sort this out. He was now too busy wishing he had led a better life—time for reform having obviously run out.
The car swerved dangerously. 've got it, sir.'
'Have you?' muttered Sloan between clenched teeth. 'Then slow down.' He started to breathe again as the fields stopped flashing by quite so quickly. 'Now tell me.'
'I can't tell you anything, sir,' said Crosby helpfully, 'except that I remember the name.'
'Where?'
'The past.'
'I wish,' said Sloan, made irritable by fear, 'that you would stop saying that.'
'I mean, sir'—Crosby was never good at explanations— 'when I was trying to learn about the past.'
'Light is beginning to dawn, Crosby. Go on.'
'It all started when I didn't know who George Smith was, sir.'
I'm not sure that I do either.'
'He drowned his wives,' said Crosby reproachfully. 'All of them.'
'Oh, him.'
'Yes, sir, but I didn't know at the time and they pulled my leg a bit at the Station.'
'I'll bet they did.'
'Every time anyone mentioned the word 'bath.' So Sergeant Gelven—he said if I was ever going to get anywhere, I'd better read up famous cases.'
'The Tichborne Claimant,' remembered Sloan suddenly. 'That's how you knew about that…'
'Yes, sir.'
'But,' puzzled, 'how does Mantriot come in?'
'It's not a Famous Case, sir, I do know that.'
'Not yet it isn't,' retorted Sloan, 'but I shouldn't count on it staying that way.'
'So it must be a local one. After I'd done the others, sir, I went back through the Calleshire records. That's where I've seen the name, I'm sure.' Crosby spotted a rival county's ratrap and slowed down. 'But I don't remember when or where.'
'We'll soon find out,' said Sloan pleasantly. 'You can go through them again until you find it.'
Superintendent Leeyes's afternoon cups of tea were rather like American television shows which went from the late show to the late, late show to the late, late, late show thence merging imperceptibly into the early, early, early show, the early, early show and naturally enough the early show. His tea went on the same principle—the after lunch cup, the early Afternoon cup, the middle of the afternoon one and so forth. It was impossible for Sloan and Crosby to guess which one he was at when they arrived back in Berebury.
'We've got him,' announced Leeyes triumphantly.
Sloan shook his head. 'I should say that gift lets Hibbs out.'
'And I should say,' retorted Leeyes robustly, 'that it lets him in.'
'I'll go down there at once, sir, and see.'
'There's one other thing, Sloan…'
'Sir?'
'This girl—I think she's starting to imagine things now…'
'I should very much doubt that.'
'You sent her away from home last night.'
'I tried to. I don't know if she went but I told P. C. Hepple he was to keep an eye on her if she didn't.'
'She did. To the Rectory. But she and the Thorpe boy went back to Boundary Cottage after lunch.'
'Yes?' said Sloan alertly.
'He rang up about an hour ago to say the girl swears someone's been in the cottage overnight.'
Sloan expired audibly. 'I thought they might. That's why…'
'Someone's got a key,' snapped Leeyes. 'We've known that all along. Why didn't you have the lock changed?'
'I wanted them to show their hand,' said Sloan simply. 'And they have.'
Sunday was Sunday as far as James Hibbs and his wife were concerned. It was late afternoon when Sloan and Crosby arrived at The Hall. This time, being Sunday, they were shown into the drawing room. Tea at The Hall
