ooting-jacket after
dinner, a light-colored tweed, a little too loud in pattern for English
tastes, perhaps. He had it on when I saw him last. It used to hang in
this cupboard here"--Martin opened the door of it as he spoke--"along
with Mr. Manderson's fishing-rods and such things, so that he could slip
it on after dinner without going upstairs."

"Leaving the dinner-jacket in the cupboard?"

"Yes, sir. The housemaid used to take it upstairs in the morning."

"In the morning," Trent repeated slowly. "And now that we are speaking
of the morning, will you tell me exactly what you know about that. I
understand that Mr. Manderson was not missed until the body was found
about ten o'clock."

"That is so, sir. Mr. Manderson would never be called, or have anything
brought to him in the morning. He occupied a separate bedroom. Usually
he would get up about eight and go round to the bathroom, and he would
come down some time before nine. But often he would sleep till nine or
ten o'clock. Mrs. Manderson was always called at seven. The maid would
take in tea to her. Yesterday morning Mrs. Manderson took breakfast
about eight in her sitting-room as usual, and everyone supposed that Mr.
Manderson was still in bed and asleep when Evans came rushing up to the
house with the shocking intelligence."

"I see," said Trent. "And now another thing. You say you slipped the
lock of the front door before going to bed. Was that all the locking-up
you did?"

"To the front-door, sir, yes; I slipped the lock. No more is considered
necessary in these parts. But I had locked both the doors at the back,
and seen to the fastenings of all the windows on the ground-floor. In
the morning everything was as I had left it."

"As you had left it. Now here is another point--the last, I think. Were
the clothes in which the body was found the clothes that Mr. Manderson
would naturally have worn that day?"

Martin rubbed his chin. "You remind me how surprised I was when I first
set eyes on the body, sir. At first I couldn't make out what was unusual
about the clothes, and then I saw what it was. The collar was a shape of
collar Mr. Manderson never wore except with evening dress. Then I found
that he had put on all the same things that he had worn the night
before--large-fronted shirt and all--except just the coat and waistcoat
and trousers, and the brown shoes and blue tie. As for the suit, it was
one of half a dozen he might have worn. But for him to ha