Chapter Eight
‘Ah,’ said Mr. Pomfrey, clearly taken aback to find the study already occupied. ‘We—er—have come to—er—’
‘I beg your pardon,’ said the doctor briskly, ignoring the solicitor’s palpable embarrassment, ‘but I should like to examine this fireplace more closely.’ He strode forward.
‘Hm—ah—yes,’ said Mr. Pomfrey, in an agony of discretion. Evidently, finding three guests in the study had not formed part of his plans.
Dr. Carter peered at the edge of the mantelpiece and appeared to spot something. He dabbed at it with his forefinger and sniffed it delicately. ‘Yes—hair oil, I should say. That seems straightforward enough.’
I was momentarily surprised at the revelation that Sir Neville had used hair oil. I had not thought him the type.
‘Did you say that the body had not been m
