“You stated a little while since that your father had a number of valuable things in the house. Quite a natural thing for a man of his wealth, of course. Has anything been stolen? Anything missed?” Stewart shook his head in denial of the idea. “As far as we know, Mr. Bathurst—_nothing_ has been taken. Certainly no money has been stolen. My father’s personal jewelry is in his bedroom—untouched—just where he left it.” Anthony thought for a moment. “Papers! Documents! Was there any evidence that anything of that nature had been taken from the library? Did any drawers appear to have been ransacked?” “There were no signs of disorder in the library at all. Everything there seemed quite normal.” But Bathurst persisted. “Your father’s collection, Mr. Stewart—that was very valuable, I believe. Have steps been taken to see that this is intact? Where is the collection kept?” “In what we call the Museum Room—next to the library. I don’t know that it occurred to me—or even to any of us—to go in there—there was no connection you see.” He looked across at Anthony. “Is the Museum Room kept locked?” demanded the latter. “Not necessarily during the day,” came the answer. “My father might be in and out several times during an ordinary day—he might even have been in there last night with Colonel Leach-Fletcher for all we know. Butterworth will be able to tell us,” he concluded, rather lamely, Daventry thought, “we can ask Butterworth if he locked the Museum Room when he locked up last night.” “You don’t mind if I smoke?” put in Bathurst. “The key of this Museum Room now—where would it be kept—in the door?” He lit his cigarette, and tossed the match into an ash-tray. “No—I don’t think so. In fact, I’m sure not. The key of a room like that would be hung up each night in Butterworth’s service-room. He would unlock the room some time during the following morning.” “So that we may say—anybody had access to it—knowing that the key was kept there?” “I suppose so,” replied Stewart. “But I’m quite certain the Museum Room door was shut all right when the alarm was given this morning.” He sat back in his chair firmly as though to give point to his words. “That’s pretty conclusive then,” admitted Anthony. “Still—I think we’ll have a look at this Museum Room—nevertheless! You see it might supply that motive I’m looking for.” He rubbed his chin with his finger. “Otherwise——” Stewart rose from his chair at the head of the table. “Would you care to come and look now, Mr. Bathurst?” Anthony motioned him back again. “In the morning, Mr. Stewart, in the morning. That will be time enough. Tell me—I’m rather curious to know—the point is of extreme importance—have you any list or catalogue of your father’s collection?”