Martin Hewitt, Investigator | Page 7

and expressed his desire to see the windows from the outside. Before leaving the room, however, he wished to know the names of any persons who were known to have been about the house on the occasions of all three robberies.
"Just carry your mind back, Sir James," he said. "Begin with yourself, for instance. Where were you at these times?"
"When Mrs. Heath lost her bracelet, I was in Tagley Wood all the afternoon. When Mrs. Armitage was robbed, I believe I was somewhere about the place most of the time she was out. Yesterday I was down at the farm." Sir James' face broadened. "I don't know whether you call those suspicious movements," he added, and laughed.
"Not at all; I only asked you so that, remembering your own movements, you might the better recall those of the rest of the household. Was anybody, to your knowledge--anybody, mind--in the house on all three occasions?"
"Well, you know, it's quite impossible to answer for all the servants. You'll only get that by direct questioning--I can't possibly remember things of that sort. As to the family and visitors--why, you don't suspect any of them, do you?"
"I don't suspect a soul, Sir James," Hewitt answered, beaming genially, "not a soul. You see, I can't suspect people till I know something about where they were. It's quite possible there will be independent evidence enough as it is, but you must help me if you can. The visitors, now. Was there any visitor here each time--or even on the first and last occasions only?"
"No, not one. And my own sister, perhaps you will be pleased to know, was only there at the time of the first robbery."
"Just so! And your daughter, as I have gathered, was clearly absent from the spot each time--indeed, was in company with the party robbed. Your niece, now?"
"Why hang it all, Mr. Hewitt, I can't talk of my niece as a suspected criminal! The poor girl's under my protection, and I really can't allow----"
Hewitt raised his hand, and shook his head deprecatingly.
"My dear sir, haven't I said that I don't suspect a soul? Do let me know how the people were distributed, as nearly as possible. Let me see. It was your, niece, I think, who found that Mrs. Armitage's door was locked--this door, in fact--on the day she lost her brooch?"
"Yes, it was."
"Just so--at the time when Mrs. Armitage herself had forgotten whether she locked it or not. And yesterday--was she out then?"
"No, I think not. Indeed, she goes out very little--her health is usually bad. She was indoors, too, at the time of the Heath robbery, since you ask. But come, now, I don't like this. It's ridiculous to suppose that she knows anything of it."
"I don't suppose it, as I have said. I am only asking for information. That is all your resident family, I take it, and you know nothing of anybody else's movements--except, perhaps, Mr. Lloyd's?"
"Lloyd? Well, you know yourself that he was out with the ladies when the first robbery took place. As to the others, I don't remember. Yesterday he was probably in his room, writing. I think that acquits him, eh?" Sir James looked quizzically into the broad face of the affable detective, who smiled and replied:
"Oh, of course nobody can be in two places at once, else what would become of the alibi as an institution? But, as I have said, I am only setting my facts in order. Now, you see, we get down to the servants--unless some stranger is the party wanted. Shall we go outside now?"
Lenton Croft was a large, desultory sort of house, nowhere more than three floors high, and mostly only two. It had been added to bit by bit, till it zigzagged about its site, as Sir James Norris expressed it, "like a game of dominoes." Hewitt scrutinized its external features carefully as they strolled around, and stopped some little while before the windows of the two bed-rooms he had just seen from the inside. Presently they approached the stables and coach-house, where a groom was washing the wheels of the dog-cart.
"Do you mind my smoking?" Hewitt asked Sir James. "Perhaps you will take a cigar yourself--they are not so bad, I think. I will ask your man for a light."
Sir James felt for his own match-box, but Hewitt had gone, and was lighting his cigar with a match from a box handed him by the groom. A smart little terrier was trotting about by the coach-house, and Hewitt stooped to rub its head. Then he made some observation about the dog, which enlisted the groom's interest, and was soon absorbed in a chat with the man. Sir James, waiting a little way off, tapped the stones rather impatiently with his foot, and presently moved away.
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