Passing The Hollies, he smiled at the notion that Furneaux would
undoubtedly have brought Grant to the conclave. It was just the sort of
difficult situation in which his colleague would have reveled. But the
Chief Inspector was more solid, more circumspect, even, singularly
enough, more sensitive to the probable comments of a crusty judge if
counsel for the defense contrived to elicit the facts.
"Anything fresh?" inquired the superintendent, when a smart car drew up,
and Winter entered.
Mr. Fowler was in plain clothes, and the blinds were half drawn. No one
could possibly recognize either of the occupants unless the car was
halted, and the inquisitor literally thrust his head inside. The motor
was a private one, borrowed for the occasion.
"Yes, a little," said Winter, as the chauffeur put the engine in gear.
"Your man, Robinson, has been drawing Elkin, or Elkin drew him--I am not
quite sure which, but think it matterless either way."
He sketched Robinson's activities briefly, but in sufficient outline.
"A new figure has come on the screen--Siddle, the chemist," he added
thoughtfully.
"Siddle!" Mr. Fowler was surprised. "Why, he is supposed to be a model of
the law-abiding citizen.
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