“At a late hour last night the Secretary of State communicated in person with the Chief Commissioner—at the latter’s town residence. He instructed him to offer every facility to a newly appointed agent of the Home office who was empowered to conduct an official inquiry into the drug traffic. As a result Vine Street was advised that the Home office investigator would proceed at once to Kazmah’s premises, and from thence wherever available clues might lead him. For some reason which has not yet been explained to me, this investigator chooses to preserve a strict anonymity.” Traces of irritation became perceptible in the weary voice. Kerry staring, in silence, the Assistant Commissioner continued: “I have been advised that this nameless agent is in a position to establish his bona fides at any time, as he bears a number of these cards. You see, Chief Inspector, I am frank with you.” From a table drawer the Assistant Commissioner took a visiting-card, which he handed to Kerry. The latter stared at it as one stares at a rare specimen. It was the card of Lord Wrexborough, His Majesty’s Principal Secretary of State for the Home Department, and in the cramped caligraphy of his lordship it bore a brief note, initialled, thus: [Illustration] Some moments of silence followed; then: “Seven-one-nine,” said Kerry in a high, strained voice. “Why seven-one-nine? And why all this hocus-pocus? Am I to understand, sir, that not only myself but all the Criminal Investigation Department is under a cloud?” The Assistant Commissioner stroked his hair. “You are to understand, Chief Inspector, that for the first time throughout my period of office I find myself out of touch with the Chief Commissioner. It is not departmental for me to say so, but I believe the Chief Commissioner finds himself similarly out of touch with the Secretary of State. Apparently very powerful influences are at work, and the line of conduct taken up by the Home office suggests to my mind that collusion between the receivers and distributors of drugs and the police is suspected by someone. That being so, possibly out of a sense of fairness to all officially concerned, the committee which I understand has been appointed to inquire into the traffic has decided to treat us all alike, from myself down to the rawest constable. It’s highly irritating and preposterous, of course, but I cannot disguise from you or from myself that we are on trial, Chief Inspector!” Kerry stood up and slowly moved his square shoulders in the manner of an athlete about to attempt a feat of weight-lifting. From the Assistant Commissioner’s table he took the envelope which contained his resignation, and tore it into several portions. These he deposited in a waste-paper basket. “That’s that!” he said. “I am very deeply indebted to you, sir. I know now what to tell the Press.” The Assistant Commissioner glanced up. “Not a word about 719,” he said, “of course, you understand this?”