Sable Messenger: An Inspector Knollis Mystery (The Inspector Knollis Mysteries Book 2) by Francis Vivian

Sable Messenger: An Inspector Knollis Mystery (The Inspector Knollis Mysteries Book 2) by Francis Vivian

Author:Francis Vivian [Vivian, Francis]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Dean Street Press
Published: 2018-10-01T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter IX

The Small Change

After lunch, Knollis and Ellis once more entered the car, and Knollis steered it through the almost deserted city streets and out into open country.

“Watney?” said Ellis.

“A peaceful little village eight miles out,” replied Knollis; “the sort of place you and I dream of retiring to when the pension becomes due.”

“And the parson,” asked Ellis; “does he live out the same way?”

“Thirty miles in the opposite direction. If you’ll notice the sun you’ll see that we are going eastwards now. We may see the rector to-day, and if we do, then you’d better turn up your coat collar, because Derbyshire is bleak in October.”

“This is a hell of a case,” Ellis soliloquized as they sped along the country road. “At the moment it looks horribly complicated, and I know that it will shuffle itself round while we aren’t looking and be there, all at once, in one straight line, and we’ll wonder why we didn’t see it at first.”

“There are so many factors to consider,” said Knollis. “Lesley has accused Margot Rawley of immorality. Well, she may be immoral. On the other hand it may be nothing but a catty remark, or unconscious spite because Margot was between herself and Dennis Rawley. Then again, regarding the conflicting statements of the two women over the inquiry of the man in the black coat; they may be in conflict merely because whichever of them is wrong refuses to back down and give the other woman superiority. We also have the insinuations of Dexter’s cousin; on the face of them they indicate possible guile in previously unsuspected quarters, but who can attempt to judge without facts to substantiate them? Oh, it will clear, but I fancy it is going to be a long case.”

“Have you any private ideas about the culprit?” Ellis asked curiously.

Knollis cast him a quick glance, hesitated, and then gave an almost imperceptible nod. “Yes, but I don’t believe in uttering them until the whole thing is clear in my mind. Ever studied your own mind, Ellis?”

“Who hasn’t?” Ellis retorted.

“Oh, probably ninety per cent of the population!”

“Well, I have—and without much success.”

“I don’t suppose anybody achieves a great measure of success in dealing with their own mind, but a study of it can have benefits. I find that if I put all the facts down inside, and leave them alone, then in time they achieve a pattern; you hear a click, and the whole thing is before you as plain as a pikestaff. At the moment, for instance, I could put all the facts of this case on paper, but I couldn’t do the same with my thoughts and opinions, mainly because they are not yet mature—they are stewing down there, wherever that is. Mixing my metaphors, I’ve let the facts ramble about to their hearts’ content, and while I may have suspicions I don’t allow them to rise to the surface. That click will come in due course, and then somebody will take one of those famous nine o’clock walks, and Teddy Jessop will earn another tenner.



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