“Well, it was like this! This gentleman, Mr. Daventry, asked to be allowed to have a look at the Stuart stuff—the three articles that have been stolen. I showed them to him. He examined them rather carefully . . . that’s all I think . . . oh . . . he commented on the possibility of them being stolen . . . I remember that fact, because I took the trouble to explain the precautions that were always taken to safeguard our property.” “You had a watch on the stuff then?” queried Goodall. Day intervened and took up the thread from Forshaw. “Two of your people were here, Inspector. During the hours the Galleries were open to the public! In ‘plain-clothes’ of course, and armed! It’s our usual plan when we have sales of anything at all valuable. It’s been our practice for many years now.” Goodall signified that he understood. Then he turned to young Forshaw again. “What else did this Daventry do?” Forshaw passed his hands across his brow in an attempt at recollection. “Nothing, I think! That is to say—oh, I remember—he asked how many other people had been to examine the three articles he was handling.” “What was your answer? That question interests me too.” “My answer was ‘nobody’ . . . It was true,” Forshaw replied simply. Goodall looked across at Linnell. “Now I wonder what made your partner——” “Look here, Inspector,” broke in Linnell with a gesture of annoyance, “for goodness sake don’t start imagining things. Daventry was interested in Stuart articles purely from the standpoint of a competitive purchaser, about to act on behalf of a client—surely you don’t——” Goodall patted him on the arm. “Don’t get a ‘peeve,’ Mr. Linnell. It’s my job to ask questions and very often a random sort of question hits a target quite unexpectedly. Don’t forget that the presence of both you and your partner in this affair is downright queer. Right from the beginning—to the point we’ve reached now—you admitted as much yourself when you came in.” But Mr. Linnell’s professional dignity had been touched—he remained quite silent under the Inspector’s attempt at justification. He walked across to the others. “I think I’ll go, gentlemen. My partner will, no doubt, desire to discuss matters with me as soon as possible. You know where to find me if you should want me.” He bowed to the company and made his exit. Upon arrival at his offices in Cornhill he found Peter awaiting him with anxious impatience. “I’m jolly glad to see you,” was his greeting. “There’s been a second message from Assynton—young Stewart was particularly anxious to talk to you—he seemed quite annoyed when I told him you were still away from the office.” “Peter,” said Linnell, “we’ve been caught in a most curious set of circumstances. When you ’phoned me just now, at Day, Forshaw and Palmers’, what do you imagine I was doing?” Peter looked at him blankly. “Doing? Why—having a look round of course—the same as I had. What are you driving at?”