Spider's Web

The Inspector returned to the sofa, sat on the arm again and, leaning over, produced the second pair of gloves. "Perhaps these are yours?" he suggested.

Jeremy laughed. "You don't catch me a second time," he replied. "After all, one pair of gloves looks exactly like another."

The Inspector produced the third pair of gloves. "Three pairs of gloves," he murmured, examining them. "All with Hailsham-Brown's initials inside. Curious."

"Well, it is his house, after all," Jeremy pointed out. "Why shouldn't he have three pairs of gloves lying about?"

"The only interesting thing," the Inspector replied, "is that you thought one of them might have been yours. And I think that your gloves are just sticking out of your pocket, now."

Jeremy put his hand in his right-hand pocket. "No, the other one," the Inspector told him.

Removing the gloves from his left-hand pocket, Jeremy exclaimed, "Oh, yes. Yes, so they are."

"They're not really very like these. Are they?" the Inspector asked pointedly.

"Actually, these are my golfing gloves," Jeremy replied with a smile.

"Thank you, Mr. Warrender," the Inspector said abruptly and dismissively, patting the cushion back into place on the sofa. "That will be all for now."

Jeremy rose, looking upset. "Look here," he exclaimed, "you don't think – " He paused.

"I don't think what, sir?" asked the Inspector.

"Nothing," Jeremy replied uncertainly. He paused and then made for the library door, only to be intercepted by the Constable. Turning back to the Inspector, Jeremy pointed mutely and inquiringly at the hall door. The Inspector nodded, and Jeremy made his way out of the room, closing the hall door behind him.

Leaving the gloves on the sofa, the Inspector went across to the bridge table, sat, and consulted Who's Who again. "Here we are," he murmured, and began to read aloud, "'Thomson, Sir Kenneth. Chairman of Saxon-Arabian Oil Company, Gulf Petroleum Company. ' Hmm! Impressive. 'Recreations: philately, golf, fishing. Address, three hundred and forty Broad Street, thirty-four Grosvenor Square.'"

While the Inspector was reading, Constable Jones went across to the table by the sofa and began to sharpen his pencil into the ashtray. Stooping to pick up some shavings from the floor, he found a playing-card left there by Pippa, and brought it to the bridge table, throwing it down in front of his superior.

"What have you got there?" the Inspector asked.

"Just a card, sir. Found it over there, under the sofa."

The Inspector picked up the card. "The Ace of Spades," he noted. "A very interesting card. Here, wait a minute." He turned the card over. "Red. It's the same pack." He picked up the red pack of cards from the table and spread them out.

The Constable helped him sort through the cards. "Well, well, no Ace of Spades," the Inspector exclaimed. He rose from his chair. "Now, that's very remarkable, don't you think, Jones?" he asked, putting the card in his pocket and going across to the sofa. "They managed to play bridge without missing the Ace of Spades."

"Very remarkable indeed, sir," the Constable agreed, as he tidied the cards on the table.

The Inspector collected the three pairs of gloves from the sofa. "Now I think we'll have Sir Rowland Delahaye," he instructed the Constable, as he brought the gloves to the bridge table and spread them out in pairs.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

THE CONSTABLE went to the library door and opened it, calling, "Sir Rowland Delahaye."

As Sir Rowland entered from the library, pausing in the doorway, the Inspector called, "Do come in, Sir Rowland." Indicating a chair by the bridge table, he added, "Sit down, please."

Sir Rowland approached the bridge table, paused for a moment as he noticed the gloves spread out on it, and then sat.

"You are Sir Rowland Delahaye?" the Inspector asked him formally. Receiving a grave, affirmative nod, he next asked, "What is your address?"

"Long Paddock, Littlewich Green, Lincolnshire," Sir Rowland replied. Tapping a finger on the copy of Who's Who, he added, "Couldn't you find it, Inspector?"

The Inspector chose to ignore this. "Now, if you please," he said, "I'd like your account of the evening, after you left here shortly before seven."

Sir Rowland had obviously already given some thought to this. "It had been raining all day," he began smoothly, "and then it suddenly cleared up. We had already arranged to go to the golf club for dinner, as it is the servants' night out. So we did that." He glanced across at the Constable, as though to make sure he was keeping up, then continued, "As we were finishing dinner, Mrs. Hailsham-Brown rang up and suggested that, as her husband had unexpectedly had to go out, we three should return here and make up a four for bridge. We did so. About twenty minutes after we'd started playing, you arrived, Inspector. The rest... you know."

The Inspector looked thoughtful. "That's not quite Mr. Warrender's account of the matter," he observed.

"Indeed?" said Sir Rowland. "And how did he put it?"