"
CHAPTER XXII
ASHTON-KIRK IS ANNOYED
On the following day, at about noon, Ashton-Kirk's big French car
glided up to the curb before the Vale house. A man with a thick neck
and a small head nodded to the investigator; another waved a hand from
across the street.
"Plain-clothes men," he murmured, "and at watch upon the house. That
means that this matter can be brought to an end none too soon for Miss
Vale's comfort."
He was getting out of his car when a brace of eager reporters accosted
him.
"The _Standard_ would like to have you say a few words for
publication," said one.
"The _Herald_ will give you what space you require for a statement at
any time you see fit to make use of it," declared the other.
"I'm very sorry," said Ashton-Kirk, brushing a speck of dust from an
immaculate sleeve, "but I have nothing to say that would interest your
city editors, or the public. I have no doubt but that the police
officials will be glad to acquaint you with anything new that has
transpired--if there has been anything new."
The newspaper men pulled wry faces.
"The police hang onto the Italian musician and profess to think he's
the guilty party," said one. "If they have taken any steps beyond
this, before to-day, we have not known of it.
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