“Somebody had evidently been in the room. Everything was upside down. All the drawers had been ransacked and their contents had been thrown about. Neville Shandon’s attaché case had been treated in the same way. The whole place was in confusion.” “Did you make out what the thieves had been searching for?” “Well, his writing-case had been torn open and most of the contents had been strewn about the floor. They’d been in a great hurry over their work. And his pocket-book was pitched over into one corner of the room as if someone had been through the contents and had chucked it away.” “What about money? His note-case was lying on the dressing-table. I put it there myself when I searched his body yesterday.” “Some notes were lying on the floor amongst the rest of the stuff. I didn’t count them. In fact I didn’t touch anything. I thought you’d better see things as they were.” “The window was still open?” “Yes.” “It looks as though the burglar (or burglars) had got away before Mr. Shandon saw the ladder, then. They’d cleared out and left the ladder in position. What about the key of the door?” “It hasn’t turned up.” “And what happened after that? Why didn’t you ring up the police at once?” Stenness suppressed a sardonic smile with evident difficulty. “Mr. Shandon was to look after that part. I went back to my room, put on some clothes, and kept myself awake by reading till the morning. We hadn’t roused the rest of the people in the house.” Sir Clinton turned to Ernest. “Couldn’t you get through to the police-station, Mr. Shandon? I must see about this. It’s a serious matter for my subordinates.” Ernest seemed completely taken aback by this view of the question. “Well, Sir Clinton, I suppose I ought to have rung up the police; but it was very late, you know. I was awfully sleepy; and as I was walking along, I turned into my own bedroom. I was very shaken up by the whole affair. It hasn’t happened to me before, you see. And somehow, I must have begun to undress quite without thinking about it—you know how one does things unconsciously . . .” Then, with disarming frankness, he admitted the truth: “I went to bed. And after a minute or two, I remembered I ought to have rung up the police. But that would have meant getting out of bed again and putting on some clothes to go down to the ’phone. It would have been a lot of trouble. And it didn’t seem to me that it mattered very much really. So while I was thinking about it, I fell asleep. But I rang you up as soon as I got up this morning.” Sir Clinton made no comment on Ernest’s methods. He had got all the information he needed apparently, for now he turned to Stenness and suggested that they should go upstairs and look at the scene of the burglary.