Free In the Teeth of the Evidence by Dorothy L. Sayers Page B

wedding-group free. With gilt frame, twenty-five shillings. Dirt cheap. You know the game?’
        ‘I do,’ replied the Inspector, with an emphasis that made it clear that he thought the game a very doubtful one.
        ‘Just so,’ said Mr Cobb with a wink. ‘Well, we had dinner – and a dashed bad dinner too. Then we had a bit of a yarn in the bar-parlour. Bates and the barman saw us there. Then Bates went off to play billiards with some young fellow who dropped in, and we sat on till just about eleven. Then Pringle barged off – said he wasn’t feeling the thing, and I’m not surprised. That mackerel—’
        ‘Never mind the mackerel now,’ said Monk. ‘The barman says you and Pringle had a final drink at five to eleven, and then Pringle went off to bed, taking his bag with him. Did you go straight to the billiard-room at that point?’
        ‘Yes, right away. We played—’
        ‘Just a minute. Bates says you made a phone call first.’
        ‘So I did. At least, I went up first and found Bates and the other chap just finishing their game. So I said I’d make my call and then take Bates on. You can check the call for the time. I made it to the Bull at Tadworthy. I’d left a pair of gloves in the bar. A man answered me and said he’d found them and would send them on.’
        The Inspecor made a note.
        ‘And how long did you play billiards?’
        ‘Till around about a quarter-past twelve. Then Bates said he’d had enough, as he had to get up early, so we drank the drinks I’d won off him and I pushed up to bed.’
        The Inspector nodded. This confirmed the landlord’s evidence.
        ‘My room’s on the main landing,’ went on Mr Cobb. ‘No, not the side near the corridor where the disturbance was – the other side. But I went across and had a bath; the bathroom’s near the steps that go down to the corridor. It would be about ten to one when I got back. All quiet then on the Western Front.’
        ‘What did you and Pringle talk about downstairs?’
        ‘Oh, this and that,’ replied Mr Cobb easily. ‘We got swapping yarns and so on. Pringle had a hot one or two, and yours truly kept his end up. Have a fag, Inspector?’
        ‘No, thanks. Did Pringle happen to mention – Yes, Ruggles, what is it? Excuse me one moment, gentlemen.’
        He stepped to the door for a word with the sergeant, returning in a minute or two with a card in his hand.
        ‘I suppose your photographic supplies don’t include this kind of thing, Mr Cobb?’
        Mr Cobb blew out a long cloud of smoke with a whistling noise.
        ‘No,’ he said, ‘no-ho! Where did you get this pretty thing from?’
        ‘Ever seen it before?’
        Mr Cobb hesitated. ‘Well, since you ask me, yes. The late lamented Pringle showed it me last night. Wouldn’t have said anything if you hadn’t asked me. Speak no ill of the dead and so on. But he was a bit up and coming, was Pringle.’
        ‘Sure it was the same one?’
        ‘Looks like it. Same pretty lady – same pretty pose, anyhow.’
        ‘Where did he carry it?’ asked the Inspector, taking the photograph back and attaching it to his notes with a paper-clip – but not before Mr Egg had snatched a glimpse of it and been suitably shocked.
        ‘In his breast-pocket,’ replied Mr Cobb, after a moment’s thought.
        ‘I see. Pringle told you what his job was, I suppose. Did he happen to say anything about taking precautions against thieves, or anything of that sort?’
        ‘He did mention that he had valuable stuff in his bag and always locked his bedroom door,’ returned Mr Cobb, with an air of great frankness. ‘Not that I asked him. No affair of mine what he did.’
        ‘Quite so. Well, Mr Cobb, I don’t think I need trouble you further at present, but I’d be obliged if you’d stay in the hotel till I’ve seen you again. Sorry to inconvenience you.’
        ‘Not at