夜雨聆风n one second he was at the telephone, jerking the receiver up and downimpatiently until he got a reply. He asked for Haydock’s number. Thenthere was a further pause during which he stood, his ear to the telephoneand his eyes on the limp figure in the chair.
“Hallo—hallo—hallo—is that Dr. Haydock’s? Will the doctor come roundat once to High Street? Mr. Hawes. It’s urgent … what’s that?… Well, whatnumber is it then?… Oh, sorry.”
He rang off, fuming.
“Wrong number, wrong number—always wrong numbers! And a man’slife hanging on it. HALLO—you gave me the wrong number … Yes—don’twaste time—give me three nine—nine, not five.”
Another period of impatience—shorter this time.
“Hallo—is that you, Haydock? Melchett speaking. Come to 19 High Streetat once, will you? Hawes has taken some kind of overdose. At once, man,it’s vital.”
He rang off, strode impatiently up and down the room.
“Why on earth you didn’t get hold of the doctor at once, Clement, I can-not think. Your wits must have all gone wool gathering.”
Fortunately it never occurs to Melchett that anyone can possibly havedifferent ideas on conduct to those he holds himself. I said nothing, and hewent on:
“Where did you find this letter?”
“Crumpled on the floor—where it had fallen from his hand.”
“Extraordinary business—that old maid was right about its being thewrong note we found. Wonder how she tumbled to that. But what an assthe fellow was not to destroy this one. Fancy keeping it—the most dam-aging evidence you can imagine!”
“Human nature is full of inconsistencies.”
“If it weren’t, I doubt if we should ever catch a murderer! Sooner orlater they always do some fool thing. You’re looking very under theweather, Clement. I suppose this has been the most awful shock to you?”
