The Charing Cross Mystery
He laid down the letters and picked up the watch--a fine gold-cased hunter--and released the back. Within that was an inscription, engraved in delicate lettering. The inspector let out an exclamation.
"Ah!" he said. "I half suspected that from his appearance. One of ourselves! Look at this--'Presented to Superintendent Robert Hannaford, on his retirement, by the Magistrates of Sellithwaite.' Sellithwaite, eh?--where's that, now?"
"Yorkshire," replied one of the men standing close by. "South-West Riding."
Matherfield closed the watch and laid it by.
"Well," he remarked, "that's evidently who he is--ex-Superintendent Hannaford, of Sellithwaite, Yorkshire, stopping at Malter's Hotel. I'll have to go round there. Mr. Hetherwick, as you were the last man to see him alive, I wish you'd go with me--it's on your way to the Temple."
Something closely corresponding to curiosity, not morbid, but compelling, made Hetherwick accede to t