CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR“Perhaps you’d care to be sick, sir,” said the plain-clothes man helpfully.
Mr Campion declined the invitation gracefully, and Amanda grinned at him. On the other side of the room Mr Lugg, still padding about in stockinged feet, turned away from the Van Gogh, which seemed to fascinate him, and leant over the superintendent’s chair.
“He put a lot of faith in that solicitor of ’is, didn’t ’e?” he remarked. “It’ll take more than a lawyer to explain that fancywork in the kitchen. No wonder the pore little legal gent looked a bit on ’is dig. It’s cost the country a mint o’ money, too. That’ll pile it on for Mr Paul. Still, a very nice police turnout; I will say that. If you’d done a murder, c**k, you couldn’t ’ave bin looked after better. Busies ’ere, busies round the Sover
