Chapter 61

The woman by the altar stiffened. “His voice,” she said exultingly. “Drummond at last.” And then, or was it my imagination, there seemed to come a funny sort of hissing noise from the hall. Had the negro got him already? But no, he was speaking again. “I am a police inspector, and I wish to see the lady of the house on a very important matter.” In the dim light I could just see Darrell’s expression of blank amazement, and I sympathised with him. Was _this_ the brilliant scheme? If so, was a more utterly fatuous one…