Teal, groping round, located the lamp and turned it on. A moment later Storm returned. He had rolled back his sleeve and was endeavouring to tie his handkerchief round his wrist, and to her surprise and disgust she said the conventional thing. "You're hurt." "Not a bit of it," he assured her. "Only a graze--dear old Gat's going off, and I think I must be, too. It's time some of us old soldiers retired--Gat and I wouldn't have missed each other in Chicago!" "He got away?" said Teal. Storm nodded. "That's the day's safety bet--clean! He got through into Park Lane, and there was a fast car waiting for him. All lights out, so I missed the number. It was Morini, of course, but we couldn't get a conviction--the defence'd produce half a dozen small men with washed-out blue eyes that you couldn't distinguish from Morini if they were all dressed alike and had scarves spliced on their dials." He looked at Teal, and his gunmetal grey eyes were alight with challenge. "And this is only the opening chorus. You wait till the balloon goes up!" Inspector Teal stroked his bowler. "Where's Hannassay?" he asked prosaically. "Je-rusalem! I'd forgotten him. The fireworks ought to have woken him if nothing else will." Upstairs, after an unavailing assault on the door of Hannassay's bedroom, Storm went around to the adjoining bathroom, climbed out of the window, and edged his way perilously along a two-inch ledge with the assistance of a rickety drainpipe. He came back to report that the room was empty. "He must be out," Susan said. "It never occurred to me, though--he generally tells me where and when he's going so that any important messages can be sent on." "Did he always lock his bedroom?" asked Storm, and she nodded. "He had a safe there with all his private papers. The room's always locked as soon as his valet has swept it out to make the bed." "Let's hope it wasn't burgled," said Teal. "Didn't you say there were two men at the back door?" They went round to the back, and the detective made an inspection with the aid of his pocket torch. The door had been burst open with a jemmy of a peculiar pattern, and Inspector Teal examined the marks with a professional eye. "That's Prester John's work," he declared. "I know that jemmy of his--he invented it himself, and it's guaranteed to make a safe look like a sardine tin."