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Chapter 9
Ithinkit’sapieceofopencoastwithbiggishcliffs,somewherebetweentheWashandtheChannel.Alsoit’saplacewherefulltideisat10.17tomorrownight.”
Thenanideastruckme.“IstherenoInspectorofCoastguardsorsomefellowlikethatwhoknowstheEastCoast?”
Whittakersaidtherewas,andthathelivedinClapham.Hewentoffinacartofetchhim,andtherestofussataboutthelittleroomandtalkedofanythingthatcameintoourheads.Ilitapipeandwentoverthewholethingagaintillmybraingrewweary.
Aboutoneinthemorningthecoastguardmanarrived.Hewasafineoldfellow,withthelookofanavalofficer,andwasdesperatelyrespectfultothecompany.IlefttheWarMinistertocross-examinehim,forIfelthewouldthinkitcheekinmetotalk.
“WewantyoutotellustheplacesyouknowontheEastCoastwheretherearecliffs,andwhereseveralsetsofstepsrundowntothebeach.”
Hethoughtforabit.“Whatkindofstepsdoyoumean,sir?Thereareplentyofplaceswithroadscutdownthroughthecliffs,andmostroadshaveasteportwointhem.Ordoyoumeanregularstaircases—allsteps,sotospeak?”
SirArthurlookedtowardsme.“Wemeanregularstaircases,”Isaid.
Hereflectedaminuteortwo.“Idon’tknowthatIcanthinkofany.Waitasecond.There’saplaceinNorfolk—Brattlesham—besideagolf-course,wherethereareacoupleofstaircases,toletthegentlemengetalostball.”
“That’snotit,”Isaid.
“ThenthereareplentyofMarineParades,ifthat’swhatyoumean.