’ Chapter Three Captain Hilary Roding listened with only half an ear to the long-winded report being given by Sergeant Trodger, his idle gaze wandering over the congested traffic of Piccadilly and the many pedestrians weaving a hazardous path through it. So let me assure you now that we are not accusing you of a crime. You’ve got me. But was that enough? Dim, formless suspicions of something more vital wandered about his mind. I fought ten lions at once. Jack was a comical scoundrel, and made a little too free with his grace's best burgundy, as well as his grace's favourite housekeeper. Thus, you see, I've never hesitated and never shall hesitate to expose my life where anything is to be gained. The Press Room, to which Blueskin was conveyed on his arrival at the jail, was a small square chamber, walled and paved with stone.
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