The distance from the Temple to Lincoln's Inn is not great. In five
minutes we were at the gateway in Chancery Lane, and a couple of minutes
later saw us gathered round the threshold of the stately old house in
New Square.
"Seems to be a light in the first floor front," said Badger. "You'd
better move away before I ring the bell."
But the precaution was unnecessary. As the inspector advanced to the
bell-pull a head was thrust out of the open window immediately above the
street door.
"Who are you?" inquired the owner of the head in a voice which I
recognised as that of Mr. Jellicoe.
"I am Inspector Badger, of the Criminal Investigation Department. I
wish to see Mr. Arthur Jellicoe."
"Then look at me. I am Mr. Arthur Jellicoe."
"I hold a warrant for your arrest, Mr. Jellicoe. You are charged with
the murder of Mr. John Bellingham, whose body has just been discovered
in the British Museum."
"By whom?"
"By Doctor Thorndyke."
"Indeed," said Mr. Jellicoe. "Is he here?"
"Yes."
"Ha! And you wish to arrest me, I presume?"
"Yes.
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