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Fletcher, J. S. (Joseph Smith), 1863-1935

"The Middle of Things"

Now, this man who was
murdered in Lonsdale Passage was here in your parlour for some time on
the evening of the night on which he was murdered, and he was then in
conversation with the man who has just gone out. Naturally, therefore, I
should like to know that man's name."
"You're not a detective?" suggested the landlord.
"Not at all!" replied Viner. "I was a neighbour of Mr. Ashton's, and I am
interested--deeply interested--in an attempt to clear up the mystery of
his death. Things keep coming out. I didn't know until this evening that
Ashton spent some time here, at your house, the night he was killed. But
when I got to know, I came along to make one or two inquiries."
"Bless me!" said the landlord, who was still staring at the portrait.
"Yes, that's the gentleman, sure enough! I've often wondered who he
was--pleasant, sociable sort, he was, poor fellow. Now I come to think of
it I remember him being in here that night--last time, of course, he was
ever in. He was talking to that gentleman who's just gone; in fact, they
left together."
"They left together, did they!" exclaimed Viner with a sharp glance at
Barleyfield.


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