CHAPTER 24It took Bull half an hour to get to Mr. Biddle’s house in Bedford Square, by way of the River Morgue, where he found that the little grey man lying on the marble slab was not Mr. Pinkerton.
Mogridge answered the door and stood aside. “Mr. Biddle said he would see you in the library at once, sir.” He was dressed in an ordinary black lounge suit.
“Are you going somewhere?” Bull said.
“I’ve just been, sir. To the florist, to arrange for the wreath to be sent to Mr. Cameron’s funeral. I attend to that sort of thing personally for Mr. Biddle.”
He held out his hand for Inspector Bull’s hat.
“Is Jebb here?”
“She’s got the sack, sir.”
Bull looked at him. They went up the stairs. “This way, sir.”
Mogridge knocked lightly on the library door and stood aside. There was no answer. He
