Free Person or Persons Unknown by Bruce Alexander Page A

arrival.”
    “Oh, well, he wasn’t terrible late — less than half an hour, I’d say.”
    “A quarter of an hour, would you give it that?”
    “About that, not much more.” The corporal glanced my way again.
    “Very good,” said Sir John. “What excuse did your brother give? What business did he have that kept him so late?”
    “That you would have to ask him, sir.”
    “Are you reluctant to say?”
    “No, sir, he never told — ^just that it was a personal matter. Then, when he was late, he said he couldn’t help it.”
    “And that was all he gave by way of explanation?”
    “He keeps his counsel. You must understand, sir, that things is not always so easy between brothers, even those in the same regiment.”
    “Perhaps especially not then.”
    “As you say, sir.”
    “We are nearly done,” said Sir John. “I do want to ask you though. Corporal, when was it that your brother, Richard, left you and the other corporal? You said that you left the Tower with him — you three together.”
    “Yes, sir. Richard stayed with us until we reached the Cheshire Cheese. He left us there.”
    “At approximately what time?”
    “Again, I must reckon, but it seems likely it would have taken about a quarter of an hour to walk there.”
    “So that you did not see your brother from about a quarter past the hour of three until a quarter past the hour of five. Correct?”
    “Correct, sir.”
    With that. Sir John dismissed Corporal Otis Sperling, but instructed him to return to the room where he had awaited our call. When he had gone. Sir John sat back in his chair and touched fingertip to fingertip. He thought for some time.
    “Well, what thought you of that?” asked Sir John of me.
    “It would seem,” said I, “that Richard Sperling is our man.”
    “So it would seem indeed. There is some discrepancy on the matter of time. But tell me, Jeremy, how did the corporal seem when I asked him to be specific on the lateness of his brother? He answered readily enough.”
    “Yes, but he seemed to grow a bit uneasy. He frowned, he delayed, he looked about. By the end of the interrogation, a bit of perspiration stood on his brow.”
    “There is an open window behind me. This room is quite cool.”
    “Exactly,” said I.
    “It could well be,” said Sir John, “that having let slip that his brother had failed to arrive in time for them to leave together on the five o’clock coach, he realized from my subsequent questions that the matter of time was essential. And so, he began perhaps to minimize his brother’s tardiness. It could well be that Richard arrived at the Coach House an hour or more late. Perhaps he barely made the six-thirty coach to Hammersmith.”
    “Which would put it within the limits of time set by Maggie Pratt’s sighting and the discovery of the body.”
    “Then still warm,” put in Sir John.
    He seemed about to add something to that when a knock came upon the door. Invited to enter, the sergeant came through the door appearing quite pleased.
    “I’m happy to report,” said he, “that I found no knives of any description among the personal property of Sperling, Otis, or Sperling, Richard. And a good thing, too, for possession of such would indeed be a court-martial offense.”
    “Well, Sergeant,” said Sir John, “if you are happy, then I am happy.”
    “Both have good records, sir — though Sperling, Richard, has been in the regiment only a bit over a year.”
    “How old is he?”
    “Just nineteen, sir.”
    “So young! Well, be that as it may, we must have him at Bow Street to continue our inquiry.”
    “That will be a matter for you to take up with Captain Conger, sir.”
    “I thought as much,” said Sir John, rising from his chair. “Would you take us to him, please?”
    Once the sergeant had led us to the captain, out in the drill yard. Sir John had a little difficulty convincing him of the necessity of removing Richard Sperling to Bow Street.
    “Is he accused?” asked the