"For I can't say that it has
--definitely. What do you conjecture did go before that?"
Mr. Killick thumped his stout stick on the floor.
"Robbery!" he exclaimed, triumphantly. "Robbery! The old man was robbed of
something! Probably--and there's nothing in these cases like considering
possibilities--he caught the thief in the act of robbing him, and lost his
life in defending his property. Now, supposing Levendale and Purvis were
interested--financially--in that property, and set their wits to work to
recover it, and in their efforts got into the hands of--shall we suppose a
gang?--and got trapped? Or," concluded Mr. Killick with great emphasis and
meaning, "for anything we know--murdered? What about that theory?"
"Possible!" muttered Ayscough. "Quite possible!"
"Consider this," continued the old solicitor. "Levendale is a well-known
man--a Member of Parliament--a familiar figure in the City, where he's
director of more than one company--the sort of man whom, in ordinary
circumstances, you'd be able to trace in a few hours. Now, you tell me
that half-a-dozen of your best men have been trying to track Levendale for
two days and nights, and can't get a trace of him! What's the inference? A
well-known man can't disappear in that way unless for some very grave
reason! For anything we know, Levendale--and Purvis with him--may be
safely trapped within half-a-mile of Praed Street--or, as I say, they may
have been quietly murdered.
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