Chapter Twenty-FourMajor Armitage had driven through Ledlington at a scandalous pace just about the time that Inspector Williams was returning Lazare’s polite good night. He whizzed past the inspector in a dark lane, without a guess at his identity, and with no more than the casual reflection that bicyclists were the curse of the country road.
At the four-cross way above Charnwood he halted to consider a plan of campaign. A deep inward conviction that Sally was in danger, and that he had turned his back on her, had sent him tearing back upon his tracks. He had thought only of getting back at any cost and in the shortest possible time. Now he realised that a plan was necessary, and set about making one.
The front-door approach to Charnwood having been tried, and not having proved a striki
