Gatton joined me within a few minutes of my arrival. He was
accompanied by Constable Bolton with whom I had first visited the Red
House. Bolton was now in plain clothes, and he had that
fish-out-of-water appearance which characterizes the constable in
mufti. Indeed he looked rather dazed, and on arriving before the house
he removed his bowler and mopped his red face with a large
handkerchief, nodding to me as he did so.
"Good afternoon, sir; it was lucky you came along with me last night.
I thought it was a funny go and I was right, it seems."
"Quite right," said Gatton shortly, "and now here are the keys which
you returned to the depot this morning."
From his pocket the Inspector produced a steel ring bearing a large
and a small key which I recognized as that which had hung from the
lock of the garage door on the previous night.
We walked along to the garage and Inspector Gatton placed the key in
the lock; then turning to Bolton:
"Now," he directed, "show us exactly what you did."
Bolton replaced his bowler, which hitherto he had carried in his hand,
hesitated for a moment, and then unlocked the door.
"Of course I had my lantern with me last night," he explained, "and
this gentleman and myself stood looking in for a moment."
"Mr. Addison has already described to me exactly what he saw," said
Gatton. "Show us what you did after Mr. Addison left you."
Bolton, with a far-away look in his eyes betokening an effort of
retrospection, withdrew the key from the lock and entered the garage,
Gatton and I following.
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