that sometimes goes to put in a day or two at Marriner's Laundry, where
a lot of women works, and I recollect her telling me not so long since
that there was talk amongst those women about the Mayor and his
interfering with things, and she'd heard some of 'em remark that he'd
best keep his fingers out o' the pie or he'd pay for it. No more, Mr.
Brent; but a straw'll show which way the wind blows. I'm sure there was
them in the town that wanted to get rid of him. All the same--murder!"

"Just so," said Brent. "Well, I've got to find it all out."

He went away to the _Chancellor_ Hotel, made his arrangements, sent to
Mrs. Appleyard's for his luggage, and eventually turned into bed.

But it was little sleep that Brent got that night, and he was thankful
when morning came and he could leave his bed and find relief in
activity. He was out and about while the grey mists still hung around
the Hathelsborough elms, and at eight o'clock walked into the
police-station, anxious for news.

Hawthwaite had no news for him. Late the previous night, and early that
morning, the police had carried out an exhaustive search of the old Moot
Hall, and had failed to discover anything that seemed to bear relation
to the crime. Also they had made themselves acquainted with the murdered
man's movements immediately previous to his arrival at the Moot Hall;
there was nothing whatever in them that afforded any clue.

"We know all that he did from five o'clock yesterday afternoon to the
time you found him, Mr. Brent," said Hawthwaite. "He left his office at
five o'clock, and went home to his rooms. He was there till nearly seven
o'clock. He went out then and walked round by Abbey Lodge, where he left
some books--novels, or something of the sort--for Mrs. Saumarez.
Then----"

"Who's Mrs. Saumarez?" asked Brent.

"She's a young widow lady, very wealthy, it's understood, who came to
live in the town some two years ago," replied Hawthwaite. "Very handsome
young woman--you'll be seeing her. Between you and me," he added, with a
knowing glance, "his Worship--late Worship, I should say--had been
showing her great attention, and I don't think she was indifferent to
him--he used to go and dine with her a good deal anyway. However, that's
neither here nor there, just now. He called, I say, at Abbey Lodge, left
these books, and then came on to the Moot Hall, as Bunning said. That's
the plain truth about his movements."

"I don't think his movements mat