CHAPTER XIIWhen Macdonald left Park Village South it was shortly before seven o’clock—a raw, nasty evening, with a fine drizzle beginning to turn to steady rain intermixed with sleet. He drove back to Scotland Yard, intending to give instructions concerning the removal of Attleton’s papers before he went on to see Mr. Burroughs, and, if possible, to startle a little truth out of him.
When he reached his own department, Detective James came running up the stairs after him.
“Phone call come through from B division, sir. There’s been an explosion in the Belfry and the whole place is burning.”
Macdonald turned a wary eye on him.
“Certain it’s not another of these bogus calls?”
“Quite certain, sir. Fuller rang up himself and I’ve got corroboration from the fire brigade. They can see the pl
