‘What about the charwoman? What is her name, by the way?’ ‘Mrs. Bridget Murphy. No, I don’t think she could tell where I was. You see, I practically did not see her at all. My breakfast was ready when I came down, and when I had finished I went direct to the studio. I don’t know when she went home, but I should think it was fairly early.’ ‘What time did you breakfast?’ ‘Eight nominally, but I wasn’t always very punctual.’ ‘Do you remember, and have you any way of proving, what time you had breakfast on this particular Wednesday?’ Felix thought over the question. ‘No,’ he answered, ‘I don’t think so. There was nothing to distinguish that morning from the others.’ ‘The point is important. Perhaps Mrs. Murphy would remember?’ ‘Possibly, but I hardly think so.’ ‘No one else could prove it? Were there no callers? No tradesmen’s messengers?’ ‘None. One or two people rang, but I didn’t bother. I was expecting no one, and I just let them ring.’ ‘An unfortunate omission. Now, tell me, where did you dine in town and spend the evenings?’ ‘I’m afraid a different restaurant each night, and naturally a different theatre.’ By dint of further questions Clifford obtained a list of all the places his client had visited during the week, his intention being to go round them in turn in search of material to build up an alibi. He was very disappointed with all he had heard, and the difficulties of his task seemed to be growing. He continued this examination. ‘Now, this typewritten letter, signed Le Gautier. Did you believe it was genuine?’ ‘I did. I thought the whole thing absurd and annoying, but I did not doubt it. You see, I had actually entered for the lottery with Le Gautier, and fifty thousand francs was the sum we would have made, had we been lucky. I did think at first it was a practical joke on Le Gautier’s part, but he is not that kind of man, and I at last concluded it was genuine.’ ‘Did you write or wire to Le Gautier?’ ‘No. I got the letter late one evening on my return home. It was too late to do anything then, but I intended to wire next morning that I would go over, and not to send the cask. But next morning’s post brought a card, also typewritten, and signed “Le Gautier,” saying the cask had actually been despatched. I forgot to mention that in my statement.’ Clifford nodded and again referred to his notes. ‘Did you write a letter to Messrs. Dupierre of Paris, ordering a statue to be sent to you, to the West Jubb Street address?’ ‘No.’ ‘Do you recollect the blotter on your study desk at St. Malo?’ ‘Why, yes,’ returned Felix, with a look of surprise. ‘Did you ever let that blotter out of your possession?’ ‘Not to my knowledge.’ ‘Did you ever take it to France?’ ‘Never.’ ‘Then how, Mr. Felix,’ asked the lawyer slowly, ‘how do you account for the fact that the blotted impression of such a letter, in your handwriting, was found on the blotter?’ Felix sprang to his feet.