CHAPTER EIGHT
Duff had the other two thieves handcuffed together and sitting on the floor when Watters brought in Scuddamore’s prisoners.
“Here we are then,” Scuddamore said. “Such a cosy gathering!” He looked around the room. “What a collection of rogues in the nation and not a smile between the lot of them.” He lowered his voice. “That cracksman is not Abernethy, Sergeant. He’s too young.”
Watters nodded. “I was thinking the same thing, Scuddamore. And where is the tall policeman? We have a lot of questions to ask these fellows.”
With three police and four criminals crowded into the room, Watters felt it was more like a prison cell than a house. “You people will wonder what you stole,” he said to the scowling prisoners. “Look.” Producing the keys, he opened the strongbox and showed
