Inspector French was exultant. This news seemed to him to complete his case. When in Amsterdam he had found cause to suspect Vanderkemp of the crime, and now here was corroborative evidence of the most convincing character. Rapidly he ran over in his mind the salient points of the case against the traveller. Vanderkemp possessed all the special knowledge necessary to commit the crime. He knew of the collection of diamonds, and was familiar with the London office and the characters and habits of the workers there. As he was by no means well-off, this knowledge would have constituted a very real temptation. So much on general grounds. Then as to details. A forged letter calling the man to London, or some similar device, would be a necessary feature of the case. But this letter existed; moreover Vanderkemp had access to the machine on which it had been typed. While telling Mr. Schoofs that he was crossing by a certain train, which arrived in town after the murder had been committed, he had in reality gone by an earlier service, which would have brought him there in time to carry out the crime. Such evidence, though circumstantial, was pretty strong. But when was added to it the facts that Vanderkemp had disappeared without explanation from his firm, had arrived in Chamonix on the second day after the murder, had registered under a false name and address, and most important of all, had paid out two of the notes stolen from Mr. Duke’s safe, the case became overwhelming. It was impossible not to believe in his guilt; in fact, seldom had the Inspector known so clear a case. When he had found and arrested Vanderkemp his work would be done. But just in the flush of victory, his luck again turned. The man had left the Beau-Sejour a week previously, and the manager had no idea what direction he had taken. In vain French asked questions and made suggestions, hoping to say something which might recall the information to the other’s mind. But the manager readily gave his help in interviewing the whole of the staff who had in any way come in contact with the wanted man. And here, thanks again to his persistent thoroughness, he obtained just the hint that was needed. He had worked through the whole staff without result, and he was about to give up, when it occurred to him that none of those to whom he had spoken had admitted having brought down Vanderkemp’s luggage from his room on the day of his departure. French then asked directly who had done this, and further inquiries revealed the fact that in the absence of the usual man, an under porter, usually employed about the kitchen, had been called upon. This man stated he had noticed the label on Vanderkemp’s suitcase. It was to a hotel in Barcelona. He could not recall the name of the hotel, but he was sure of the city.