I have one with me
now." He felt in his pockets. "Do you recognise it?"
Mrs. Pett stared at the photograph. It was the presentment of a
stout, good-humoured man of middle-age, whose solemn gaze dwelt
on the middle distance in that fixed way which a man achieves
only in photographs.
"Skinner!"
"Exactly," said Mr. Sturgis, taking the photograph from her and
putting it back in his pocket. "I recognised him directly he
opened the door to me."
"But--but I am almost certain that Skinner is the man who let me
in when I called on my sister in London."
"_Almost_," repeated the detective. "Did you observe him very
closely?"
"No. I suppose I did not."
"The type is a very common one. It would be very easy indeed for
a clever crook to make himself up as your sister's butler closely
enough to deceive any one who had only seen the original once and
for a short time then. What their game is I could not say at
present, but, taking everything into consideration, there can be
no doubt whatever that the man who calls himself your nephew and
the man who calls himself your sister's butler are working
together, and that Jerry Mitchell is working in with them. As I
say, I cannot tell you what they are after at present, but there
is no doubt that your unexpected dismissal of Mitchell must have
upset their plans. That would account for the eagerness to get
him back into the house again."
"Lord Wisbeach thought that they were trying to steal my nephew's
explosive.
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