an inference that the V. V. upon the card by the dead body might stand for Vermissa Valley, or that this very valley which sends forth emissaries of murder may be that Valley of Fear of which we have heard. So much is fairly clear. And now, Mr. Barker, I seem to be standing rather in the way of your explanation.”
It was a sight to see Cecil Barker’s expressive face during this exposition of the great detective. Anger, amazement, consternation, and indecision swept over it in turn. Finally he took refuge in a somewhat acrid irony.
“You know such a lot, Mr. Holmes, perhaps you had better tell us some more,” he sneered.
“I have no doubt that I could tell you a great deal more, Mr. Barker; but it would come with a better grace from you.”
“Oh, you think so, do you? Well, all I can say is that if there’s any secret here it is not my secret, and I am not the man to give it away.”
“Well, if you take that line, Mr. Barker,” said the Inspector quietly, “we must just keep you in sight until we have the warrant and can hold you.”
