"You can take your man," he said, "but don't get me into any trouble over this. We can't be raiding people's premises for ever, on suspicion." "There'll be no trouble this time," Mr. Brodie promised triumphantly. "A jealous woman's the real thing in our job." "Well, I wish you luck," the inspector replied. "If you're really on to Jerry Sands, you're on to a big thing." Mr. Brodie, with a plain-clothes constable, took a taxicab to the Mile End Road. The two men entered the shop together. David was alone behind the counter. "What can I show the shentlemen?" he enquired urbanely. "We want to speak to your grandfather," Brodie announced. "You needn't leave the shop. I know the way." They passed down the little steps into the stuffy parlour. Abraham Letchowiski was sitting in his chair, gazing into the fire and mumbling to himself. He looked at the visitors uneasily. "What do you want here?" he asked. "I am not well to-day. I am not speaking of business." "That's all right, Mr. Letchowiski," Brodie answered. "It's just a word with your assistant we're after." The uneasiness in the old man's face changed into terror. "What do you want with him?" he exclaimed. "He is a respectable young man, a very clever watchmaker. He comes from Switzerland. He has done nothing wrong." Brodie turned to the constable. "Don't let him move," he directed. "I hear the dynamo stopping." He ran down the passage and threw open door. The man who had been working at bench turned to face him. The whir of the dynamo was slackening, but Harvey Grimm had had no time to collect his tools. There were several curiously shaped knives and fine files and chisels lying about. Brodie saw them, and his eyes sparkled. "Edward Levy," he said, "I arrest you on the charge of breaking up stolen diamonds. I have a constable in the room outside. You'll have to come up to the police-station with us and be questioned." The young man laughed scornfully. He pointed to something bright held in the teeth of a small brass vice. With a touch of his finger he released it. "Diamonds!" he scoffed. "Why, I am an expert on sham jewellery!" Brodie pressed incautiously forward, and Harvey Grimm's left hand swung round with a lightning-like stroke. The detective went over like a log, groaned for a moment and staggered to his feet. Harvey Grimm pressed him back, forced his knotted handkerchief into his mouth, and closed and locked the door through which he had entered. Then he threw off his overall and caught up his coat and overcoat. "You're a clever fellow, Paul Brodie," he said to the writhing figure upon the floor. "Sorry I can't stop to discuss this matter with you." He threw a little higher open the window which led into the yard, vaulted through and walked swiftly down the entry. He strolled into the broad thoroughfare, wiping the moisture from his forehead and looking everywhere for a taxi.