"Gondinue--yess?" "The safe you have in the office is of an old pattern. It would be child's play to an expert safe-breaker." "Gondinue--yess?" "Mightn't it be wiser, sir, to get a new safe--or, better still, keep the papers at the bank? If anything should happen, the police would be after me at once. Once a man's made a break, they never let him go." "Gondinue--yess?" "They are rather private papers, sir?" Cold blue eyes bored mercilessly into insolent brown ones. "Hof you seen ter babers?" "No, sir, but--" "What mages you tink we hof anydings to gonceal?" "Nothing, sir, but the private correspondence of any business--" "Gondinue--yess?" "That's all, sir," Mattock concluded lamely. "Thang you. Go!" Towards three o'clock Raegenssen rose, tidied his desk, picked up his battered felt hat. The safe to which Mattock had taken exception stood in one corner of the room--a great massive affair that seemed to occupy half the office. It was eight feet high by three feet wide by three feet deep, and it was Oscar Raegenssen's especial joy. There was a glitter of amusement in his eyes as he comprehended its imposing bulk. He locked the door of his sanctum and passed through the outer office where his two clerks and Mattock worked. Only Mattock was left, and he was at that moment drawing on his waterproof preparatory to departure, for Raegenssen's closed early. "It's come on to rain, sir," he remarked. "Have you your car outside, or shall I fetch a taxi?" "Ter gar is in St. James's Square. You will blease summon it." Storm, endeavouring to appear interested in Inspector Teal's lengthy monologue on the psychology of the criminal, had been suddenly seized with what struck him as being an exceptionally brilliant idea. He took up the telephone and gave a number in the City. "I want to speak to Mr. Blaythwayt, please.... Captain Arden of the Criminal Investigation Department." He was unpleasantly conscious of Mr. Teal's curious gaze, and fervently wished that he had delayed putting his idea into practice until that portly sleuth had taken his leave. "Hullo ... yes.... Can you see me almost immediately, Mr. Blaythwayt? This Triangle affair--it's an awful nuisance, I know; but it can't be helped.... You're just going out to lunch? ... No, I'm afraid I can't--I've got a lot of other things to attend to this afternoon. Look here, if I shan't intrude, will you lunch with me? ... Susan Hawthorne? Je-ru-salem, that's funny! ... Yes--known her for years! I remember now; you're her uncle, aren't you? ... No, I'm sure she won't mind. I'd tell you over the 'phone, but I hate invisible backchatters! ... I'll pick you up at the _Record_ office in under ten minutes. So long!" "She's a nice kid, that Miss Hawthorne," observed the somniloquent Mr. Teal, as Storm put down the instrument. Storm was not inclined to be conversational on the subject.