MURDER
self must have admitted this stranger. But I don't quite see———"
The inspector went into a kind of day-dream for some minutes.
"One thing's clear," he said at length, rousing himself from his absorption. "Mr. Ackroyd was alive and well at nine-thirty. That is the last moment at which he is known to have been alive."
Parker gave vent to an apologetic cough which brought the inspector's eyes on him at once.
"Well?" he said sharply.
"If you'll excuse me, sir, Miss Flora saw him after that."
"Miss Flora?"
"Yes, sir. About a quarter to ten that would be. It was after that that she told me Mr. Ackroyd wasn't to be disturbed again to-night."
"Did he send her to you with that message?"
"Not exactly, sir. I was bringing a tray with soda and whisky when Miss Flora, who was just coming out of this room, stopped me and said her uncle didn't want to be disturbed."
The inspector looked at the butler with rather closer attention than he had bestowed on him up to now.
"You'd already been told that Mr. Ackroyd didn't want to be disturbed, hadn't you?"
Parker began to stammer. His hands shook.
"Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Quite so, sir."
"And yet you were proposing to do so?"
"I'd forgotten, sir. At least I mean, I always bring
[59]
