‘M. Fouchard,’ began Lefarge, ‘this gentleman and I are trying to trace the movements of one of your casks, which I am informed left here by your lorry about four o’clock on Tuesday, the thirtieth of March last. Can you recall the occasion?’ ‘Permit me to get my delivery book, monsieur.’ He disappeared for a moment, returning with a small, cloth-covered book. Rapidly turning over the pages, he found what he was looking for. ‘For M. Léon Felix, 141 West Jubb Street, Tottenham Court Road, London? Yes, monsieur. It was the only cask which left here that day. I took it to the Gare St. Lazare and handed it to the railway officials. Here is their signature for it.’ He passed the book over and Lefarge read the name. ‘Thank you. Who is this Jean Duval? I shall probably want to see him and would like to know where to find him.’ ‘He is a clerk in the departure passenger cloak-room.’ ‘You left here with the cask, I understand, about four o’clock?’ ‘About that, monsieur.’ ‘And what time did you arrive at the Gare St. Lazare?’ ‘Just a few minutes later. I went direct.’ ‘You didn’t stop on the way?’ ‘No, monsieur.’ ‘Well now, monsieur, please don’t answer till you have considered carefully. Was there any way in which the cask could have been tampered with between the time it was loaded up here and your handing it over to Jean Duval at the Gare St. Lazare?’ ‘None, monsieur. No one could have got on the lorry without my knowledge, much less have done anything to the cask.’ ‘And I take it from that, it would have been equally impossible to remove it entirely and substitute another?’ ‘It would have been absolutely out of the question, monsieur.’ After thanking and dismissing the driver, they returned to the manager’s room. ‘The position, then, seems to be this,’ said Lefarge, as they sat down. ‘The cask left your yard containing a group of statuary, and it arrived in London containing the dead body of a woman. The change must therefore have been effected along the route, and the evidence of the steamer people seems to narrow it down to between here and Rouen.’ ‘Why Rouen?’ asked both gentlemen in a breath. ‘Well, I should have said, perhaps, between here and the time of loading on to the steamer at Rouen wharf.’ ‘But I am afraid you are making a mistake there,’ said M. Thomas; ‘the cask went by Havre. All our stuff does.’ ‘Pardon me, M. Thomas, for seeming to contradict you,’ said Burnley, in his somewhat halting French, ‘but I am as certain of it as of my presence here now, however the cask may have been sent, it certainly arrived in the London Docks by the Insular and Continental Steam Navigation Company’s boat from Rouen.’ ‘But that is most mysterious,’ rejoined M. Thomas. He struck a bell and a clerk appeared. ‘Bring me the railway papers about the sending of that cask to Felix, London, on the thirtieth ultimo.’