“He’ll go where he belongs,” said Reggie, who was eating bread and butter. “All according to plan.” “Plan? My God, the man runs amuck!” “Oh, no, no, no. He wanted those papers for his employers. He contracted with Osbert to hand them over when Dean was dead. He murdered Dean and Osbert couldn’t deliver the goods. So I told him through the papers that Osbert had them. He thought Osbert was bilking him and went to have it out with him. Osbert didn’t satisfy him, he was sure he had been done and he made Osbert pay for it. All according to plan.” Lomas set down his glass. “Fortune,” he said nervously, “Fortune--do you mean--when you put that in the paper--you meant the thing to end like this?” “Well, what are we here for?” said Reggie. “But you know you’re forgetting the real interest of the case.” “Am I?” said Lomas weakly. “Yes. What is his poison?” “Oh, good Gad,” said Lomas. CASE II THE PRESIDENT OF SAN JACINTO MR. REGINALD FORTUNE lay in a long chair. On his right hand a precipice fell to still black water. On his left the mountains rose into a tiara of snow. Far away in front sunlight found the green flood of a glacier. But Mr. Fortune saw none of these things. He was eating strawberries and cream. The Hon. Sidney Lomas, Chief of the Criminal Investigation Department, disguised as a bloodthirsty fisherman, arrived stiffly but happy, and behind him a large Norwegian bore the corpses of two salmon into the farm-house. “The lord high detective,” Reggie murmured. “An allegorical picture, by the late Mr. Watts.” “Great days,” Lomas said, and let himself down gingerly into a chair. “Hallo, has there been a post?” He reached for one of the papers at Reggie’s feet. “My country, what of thee?” “They’re at it again, Lomas. They’ve murdered a real live lord.” “Thank heaven I’m not there. Who is it?” “One Carwell. In the wilds of the Midlands.” “Young Carwell? He’s a blameless youth to slay. What happened?” “They found him in his library with his head smashed. Queer case.” Lomas read the report, which had nothing more to tell. “Burglary, I suppose,” he pronounced. “Well, I have an alibi,” said Reggie. Neither the Chief of the Criminal Investigation Department nor his scientific adviser saw any reason to end a good holiday for the sake of avenging Lord Carwell. The policemen who dealt with the affair did not call for help. Mr. Fortune and Mr. Lomas continued to catch the salmon and eat the strawberries of Norway and let the world go by and became happily out of date. It was not till they were on the North Sea that they met the Carwell case again.