CHAPTER 121
It was sunset when Macdonald left the farmhouse and walked across the parkland towards the chauffeur’s quarters and the garages, his intention being more to form his own idea of Beach as an individual than in the hope of getting any information from the man. Inspector Young had described Beach clearly enough, a dour reticent fellow who gave no opening to any who questioned him. Moving quietly over the pasture in the evening fragrance, while tenuous drifts of mists showed faintly white in the hollows, Macdonald pondered over the fact that the most difficult defence to break down was that of the witness who would commit himself to neither statement, opinion or explanation. The infamous Landru had proved that point. “You accuse me of these murders. Prove it. I have nothing to say
