Martin Hewitt, Investigator | Page 9

Have you a clue? Who do you think? I began to believe you
were hopelessly stumped."
"Well, yes. I have rather a good clue, although I can't tell you much
about it just yet. But it is so good a clue that I should like to know now
whether you are determined to prosecute when you have the criminal?"
"Why, bless me, of course," Sir James replied, with surprise. "It doesn't
rest with me, you know--the property belongs to my friends. And even
if they were disposed to let the thing slide, I shouldn't allow it--I
couldn't, after they had been robbed in my house."
"Of course, of course! Then, if I can, I should like to send a message to
Twyford by somebody perfectly trustworthy--not a servant. Could
anybody go?"
"Well, there's Lloyd, although he's only just back from his journey. But,
if it's important, he'll go."
"It is important. The fact is we must have a policeman or two here this
evening, and I'd like Mr. Lloyd to fetch them without telling anybody
else."
Sir James rang, and, in response to his message, Mr. Lloyd appeared.

While Sir James gave his secretary his instructions, Hewitt strolled to
the door of the smoking-room, and intercepted the latter as he came
out.
"I'm sorry to give you this trouble, Mr. Lloyd," he said, "but I must stay
here myself for a little, and somebody who can be trusted must go. Will
you just bring back a police-constable with you? or rather two--two
would be better. That is all that is wanted. You won't let the servants
know, will you? Of course there will be a female searcher at the
Twyford police-station? Ah--of course. Well, you needn't bring her,
you know. That sort of thing is done at the station." And, chatting thus
confidentially, Martin Hewitt saw him off.
When Hewitt returned to the smoking-room, Sir James said, suddenly:
"Why, bless my soul, Mr. Hewitt, we haven't fed you! I'm awfully sorry.
We came in rather late for lunch, you know, and this business has
bothered me so I clean forgot everything else. There's no dinner till
seven, so you'd better let me give you something now. I'm really sorry.
Come along."
"Thank you, Sir James," Hewitt replied; "I won't take much. A few
biscuits, perhaps, or something of that sort. And, by the by, if you don't
mind, I rather think I should like to take it alone. The fact is I want to
go over this case thoroughly by myself. Can you put me in a room?"
"Any room you like. Where will you go? The dining-room's rather
large, but there's my study, that's pretty snug, or----"
"Perhaps I can go into Mr. Lloyd's room for half an hour or so; I don't
think he'll mind, and it's pretty comfortable."
"Certainly, if you'd like. I'll tell them to send you whatever they've
got."
"Thank you very much. Perhaps they'll also send me a lump of sugar
and a walnut; it's--it's a little fad of mine."
"A--what? A lump of sugar and a walnut?" Sir James stopped for a

moment, with his hand on the bell-rope. "Oh, certainly, if you'd like it;
certainly," he added, and stared after this detective with curious tastes
as he left the room.
When the vehicle, bringing back the secretary and the policeman, drew
up on the drive, Martin Hewitt left the room on the first floor and
proceeded down-stairs. On the landing he met Sir James Norris and
Mrs. Cazenove, who stared with astonishment on perceiving that the
detective carried in his hand the parrot-cage.
"I think our business is about brought to a head now," Hewitt remarked,
on the stairs. "Here are the police officers from Twyford." The men
were standing in the hall with Mr. Lloyd, who, on catching sight of the
cage in Hewitt's hand, paled suddenly.
"This is the person who will be charged, I think," Hewitt pursued,
addressing the officers, and indicating Lloyd with his finger.
"What, Lloyd?" gasped Sir James, aghast. "No--not Lloyd--nonsense!"
"He doesn't seem to think it nonsense himself, does he?" Hewitt
placidly observed. Lloyd had sank on a chair, and, gray of face, was
staring blindly at the man he had run against at the office door that
morning. His lips moved in spasms, but there was no sound. The wilted
flower fell from his button-hole to the floor, but he did not move.
"This is his accomplice," Hewitt went on, placing the parrot and cage
on the hall table, "though I doubt whether there will be any use in
charging him. Eh, Polly?"
The parrot put his head aside and chuckled. "Hullo, Polly!" it quietly
gurgled. "Come along!"
Sir James Norris was hopelessly bewildered. "Lloyd--Lloyd," he said,
under his breath. "Lloyd--and that!"
"This was his little