"And you think, with me, it was a murder, and not a suicide?" questioned Davis as he left.
But Bryant was not the man to express a decided opinion until he was fully justified by the facts. He kept his thoughts to himself till the last moment.
He smiled pleasantly. "Time will show. I shall have that body exhumed, as soon as I have made a few further inquiries."
Davis had to be content with this oracular utterance, and bowed himself out. He solaced himself by narrating all that had occurred to the wondering Carrie.
The matter had now become one for the activities of Scotland Yard. The first thing to be done was to ascertain the whereabouts of Hugh Murchison, that is to say, if he was still in the land of the living. Some time had elapsed since he had communicated with Parkinson. Of course, in itself, there would be nothing strange in that. Parkinson had got the information that was required, been paid for it, and with that payment, their relations had ended.
Bryant went to the hotel where the Major had stayed, at any rate up to the time that the detective had last seen him, and interviewed the manager, whom he had known for some years in his professional capacity. This person, a genial and cosmopolitan Italian, readily answered his questions.
Yes, the Major had stayed there for some little time. When he came, he explained that he was only paying a flying visit to London. Had he brought a servant with him? No, he had not. A somewhat strange omission for a man in his position, was it not? The circumstance was easily explained. The Major had had to dismiss his late valet for theft, and was not in a hurry, for the present, to suit himself with a fresh one. This he had told the manager and he was valeted at the hotel.
He had left some time. How long? The manager would find out the exact date. This he did. On the afternoon of the fourth of July.
The Major had taken his things down to Victoria Station in a cab with the view of depositing them there, as he was going to take an evening train to Brighton.
Bryant brightened up at this information. The discovery of the dead body at Cathcart Square had taken place early on the morning of the fifth.
Now arose the question, had the Major got through his business with the Spencers before the fourth of July? In that case Mrs. Spencer was hardly likely to be still living at Eaton Place with her husband.