The inspector made an enigmatic reference to amateur detectives and passed on to the search for the cartridge-case. This had not been discovered, nor had any trace of bicycle wheels in the fields behind the hedge been found. The source of Dawson's income was equally wrapped in mystery. In fact, as Mr. Amberley had no hesitation in pointing out, the police had discovered nothing at all.
While the inspector digested this Amberley briefly recounted the story Fountain had told him the night before.
The inspector was interested. When Amberley had finished he rubbed his hands together and said: "Now we are getting to something. A pity Mr. Fountain didn't remember it sooner. To the trained mind, Mr. Amberley, what you've just told me is highly significant."
"Highly," agreed Amberley. "I wish you joy of it. In the meantime l want a man put on to watch Mark Brown."
The inspector stared at him for a moment. Then his features relaxed into an expression of tolerant amusement. "Mark Brown, eh, sir? Now, now, Mr. Amberley, I'm afraid you've been reading these popular thrillers. I know the style of thing. The mysterious young man who comes down to stay for no reason. But it won't do, you know. The police aren't quite asleep."
"Not all of them," said Mr. Amberley sweetly. "By the way, have you grasped it yet? I want a man put on to watch Mark Brown."
"That's all very well, Mr. Amberley, but we've been into his record. There's nothing to it. You're on to a false trail. He lives in Earl's Court in a small flat with his sister which they've let for a month. She works as secretary to Anne March."
"I want Mark Brown watched."
"I take my orders from the chief constable, Mr. Amberley."
"Very proper. Do you mind if I use your telephone?"
"Of course, if you've got any real reason for having him watched, that makes a difference," said the inspector, beginning to hedge. "What have you found out about him?"
"So far, nothing. I shall be able to answer that question more fully in - say, a couple of days' time."
"Suspicions, eh, sir? The police want more than that to go on, I'm afraid."
"Which is why I don't propose to burden you with them."
The inspector fingered his chin, glancing sideways at Amberley. "Perhaps you'd better tell me what you have in your mind, Mr. Amberley," he said at last. "I may as well hear it. Do you suspect him of having committed the murder?"
"I should think it extremely improbable that he had anything to do with it."
The inspector flushed. "I don't know what you're getting at, sir, but if Brown isn't implicated in the murder he doesn't interest me."
"That I can readily believe. You never could see farther than the end of your own nose, could you? The murder, as I have said before, is likely to prove the least interesting feature of the whole case."
"Indeed, sir? Funny, isn't it? I was under the impression that the murder is the whole case."
"Try and disabuse your mind of that erroneous idea. Unless I am very much mistaken I am on to something far bigger and more fantastic than you've any of you imagined."
The inspector sat up at that. "Are you trying to hoax me, Mr. Amberley?" he demanded. "What is all this about?"
Amberley got up. "There is no point in my telling you, Inspector," he said. "It is a case where the police can't possibly act."
"H'm! Maybe the police could have a shot at it for all that."
"That is precisely what I am afraid of," returned Amberley. "I don't want the only piece of evidence that exists destroyed, you see."
"Look here, sir, you must have something to go on, or I suppose you'd hardly talk like this!"
Amberley smiled. "I have, Inspector. I've got one vital clue." He paused and his smile grew more sardonic. "Which," he added, "in its present condition is entirely valueless."
"I don't pretend to understand you, Mr. Amberley. What you say sounds to me like gibberish."
"I expect it does," agreed Amberley. "You'll have to trust me all the same. Now, are you going to detail a man to keep an eye on Brown, or do you wish me to get on to the chief constable first?"
"I suppose we can have him watched if you make a point of it," the inspector said ungraciously.
Amberley nodded. "Any one of your promising young men will do. The more obvious the better. But watch him damned closely, Inspector. I'll see you again in a day or two. My respects to Colonel Watson. Good morning."
He drove back to Upper Nettlefold and stopped at the station to buy a paper. The ten-thirty from London came in while he was standing by the bookstall, and he turned, idly surveying the passengers who alighted.
From the rear portion of the train a thin, middle-aged man got out with two suitcases. He was quietly and respectably dressed and looked like a superior servant. He saw Mr. Amberley at once, and while he sought in his waistcoat pocket for his ticket, covertly regarded him.
Amberley's eyes, wandering along the platform, came to rest on him and grew intent. The man picked up his suitcases again and walked down the platform towards the barrier. As he came abreast of Amberley, he shot a quick, furtive look up at him. But Mr. Amberley had spread open the paper, and his face could not be seen.
Chapter Eight
Fountain's new butler seemed, when Amberley saw him, to be settling down quite well at the manor. He was a rather deprecating man with shy, brown eyes and a bald top to his head. Anthony Corkran said that he was all right in his way, but a bit too assiduous. You were always tripping over the man. He supposed one couldn't blame him for making himself pleasant to the other servants, but he showed rather too many signs of growing thick with Collins for Anthony's taste.
It may have been this piece of information, so carelessly dropped, that made Amberley favour the newcomer with a long, hard stare when he first saw him. Baker gave a polite smile and turned away towards the drawing-room door to announce Amberley.
He was checked. "The name is Amberley," Frank said gently.
Baker shot him a quick look and said apologetically: "Yes, sir. Thank you."
"Which I do not think you could have known," said Amberley, still more gently.
"No, sir. I was forgetting."
Mr. Amberley followed him in a leisurely fashion to the drawing room.
Fountain, unlike Corkran, was quite enthusiastic over his new butler. The man knew his work, seemed very willing and, what was more, hit it off with the others. He was perhaps a little stupid, but one could not have everything. Even Collins seemed to be getting on quite well with him, and it was not everyone with whom Collins got on, he could assure Amberley.
He left the subject of the butler to inquire whether Amberley had come for any particular purpose. It did not seem as though he had. He put one or two not very important questions to Fountain and prepared to depart. Fountain asked him whether he was any nearer to solving the problem, and was answered by a noncommittal shrug.
"I've got Fraser to put a man on to watch Mark Brown," Amberley said.
Fountain's expression of interest and respect changed ludicrously. It was plain that he did not think much of this new departure.
Mr. Amberley gave a crooked smile. "Shattering your faith in me, Fountain?"
Fountain disclaimed hurriedly. He supposed Amberley had his reasons, but - well, wasn't it a slight waste of time? He could not seriously suppose that Brown had had anything to do with Dawson's murder. He must say it did seem to him a bit of a forlorn hope.
Mr. Amberley smiled again and remarked that he was not the first person who had been disappointed by this, his own first move in the game.