Chapter Fourteen
“Y ou know,” said Chief-Inspector Davy thoughtfully, “I don’t much like that chap Humfries.”
“Think there’s something wrong with him?” asked Campbell.
“Well—” Father sounded apologetic, “you know the sort of feeling one gets. Smarmy¹ sort of chap. I wonder if he’sthe owner or only the manager.”
“I could ask him.” Campbell took a step back towards the desk.
“No, don’t ask him,” said Father. “Just find out—quietly.”
Campbell looked at him curiously².
“What’s on your mind, sir?”
“Nothing in particular,” said Father. “I just think I’d like to have a good deal more information about this place. I’dlike to know who is behind it, what its financial status is. All that sort of thing.”
Campbell shook his head.
“I should have said if there was one place in London that was absolutely above suspicion—”
“I know, I know,” said Father. “And what a useful thing it is to have that reputation!”
Campbell shook his head and left. Father went down the passage to the smoking room. General Radley was justwaking up. The Times had slipped from his knees and disintegrated³ slightly. Father picked it up and reassembled thesheets and handed it to him.
“Thank ye, sir. Very kind,” said General Radley gruffly.
“General Radley?”
“Yes.”
“You’ll excuse me,” said Father, raising his voice, “but I want to speak to you about Canon Pennyfather.”
“Eh—what’s that?” The General approached a hand to his ear.
“Canon Pennyfather,” bellowed⁴ Father.
“My father? Dead years ago.”
“Canon Pennyfather.”
“Oh. What about him? Saw him the other day. He was staying here.”
“There was an address he was going to give me. Said he’d leave it with you.”
That was rather more difficult to get over but he succeeded in the end.
“Never gave me any address. Must have mixed me up with somebody else. Muddle-headed old fool. Always was.
Scholarly sort of chap, you know. They’re always absentminded.”

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