Peter had taken a notebook from one pocket and a pencil from another, and was jotting down in his queer shorthand the story the other told. Usually such a proceeding had the effect of silencing the man whose words were being inscribed, but Claythorpe did not seem to notice. “When Joyce Wilberforce’s uncle left me executor of his estate, I had every intention of going straight,” he went on. “But I made bad losses in the Kaffir market, and gradually I began to nibble at her fortune. The securities, which were kept in sealed envelopes at the bank, were taken out one by one, and disposed of; blank sheets of paper were placed in the envelopes, which were resealed. And when the burglary occurred, there was only one hundred-thousand pound bond left. That bond you will find in a secret drawer of my desk. I think Remington, who was in my confidence except for this matter, suspected it all along. When I took the securities from the bank, it was with the intention of raiding my own office that night and leaving the sign of Four Square Jane to throw suspicion elsewhere. I came back to the office at eleven o’clock that night, but found Remington was before me. He had opened the safe with his key, and was satisfying his curiosity as to the contents of the envelopes. He threatened to expose me, for he had already discovered that the envelopes contained nothing of importance. “I was a desperate man. I have taken a revolver with me in case I was detected, intending to end my life then and there. Remington made certain demands on me, to which I refused to agree. He rose and walked to the door, telling me he intended to call the police; it was then that I shot him.” Peter Dawes looked up from his notes. “What about Steele’s card?” he said. Lord Claythorpe nodded. “I had taken that with me to throw suspicion upon Steele, because I believed, and still believe, that he is associated with Four Square Jane.” “Tell me one thing,” said Peter. “Do you know or suspect Four Square Jane?” Lord Claythorpe shook his head. “I’ve always suspected that she was Joyce Wilberforce herself,” he said, “but I’ve never been able to confirm that suspicion. In the old days, when the Wilberforces were living in Manchester Square, I used to see the girl, and suspected she was carrying notes to young Steele, who had a top-floor office at the corner of Cavendish Square.” “Where were you living at the time?” asked Peter quickly. “I had a flat in Grosvenor Square,” said Lord Claythorpe. Peter jumped up. “Was the girl’s uncle alive at this time?” Lord Claythorpe nodded. “He was still alive,” he said. “Where was he living?” “In Berkeley----” “I’ve got it!” said Peter excitedly. “This was when all the trouble was occurring, when you were planning to rob the girl, and using your influence against her. Don’t you see? ‘Four Square Jane.’ She has named the four squares where the four characters in your story lived.” Lord Claythorpe frowned.