He took two cards from the card tray, wiped them with his silk handkerchief,

then handed one to me and took the other himself. Then, with a grin, he handed

them to the police inspector.

 

“Souvenirs,” he said. “No. 1, Dr. Sheppard; No. 2, my humble self. One from

Major Blunt will be forthcoming in the morning.”

 

Youth is very buoyant. Even the brutal murder of his friend and employer could

not dim Geoffrey Raymond’s spirits for long. Perhaps that is as it should be. I

do not know. I have lost the quality of resilience long since myself.

 

It was very late when I got back, and I hoped that Caroline would have gone to

bed. I might have known better.

 

She had hot cocoa waiting for me, and whilst I drank it, she extracted the whole

history of the evening from me. I said nothing of the blackmailing business, but

contented myself with giving her the facts of the murder.

 

“The police suspect Parker,” I said, as I rose to my feet and prepared to ascend

to bed. “There seems a fairly clear case against him.”

 

“Parker!” said my sister. “Fiddlesticks! That inspector must be a perfect fool.

Parker indeed! Don’t tell me.”