“Of course you would,” said Inspector Parr without heat. “If they are your own, where did you get them?” “They were given to me by a friend.” “Why did you light a fire in the library?” asked Parr unexpectedly, and “Flush” Barnet started. “Because I was cold,” he said after a pause. “H’m,” said Inspector Parr, and then as though speaking his thoughts aloud, “he has two hundred of his own, he breaks into a house, he burgles a safe and lights a fire. Now, why did he light the fire? Why did he light the fire? To burn something he’d found in the safe!” “Flush” Barnet listened without offering any comment, but he was visibly distressed. “Therefore,” said Parr, “you were paid to break into Marl’s house and you got two hundred for pinching something from his safe and burning it. Am I right?” “If I died this moment----” began “Flush” Barnet. “You’d go to hell,” said the inspector dispassionately, “where all liars go. Who is your pal, Barnet? You’d better tell me, because I’m in two minds whether I shall charge you with the murder----” “Murder!” almost screamed “Flush” Barnet, as he sprang to his feet. “What do you mean? I haven’t committed a murder!” “Marl’s dead, that’s all; found dead in his bed.” He left the prisoner in a state of mental prostration, and when he returned in the early hours of the morning to renew his inquisition, “Flush” Barnet told him all. “I don’t know anything about Crimson Circles, Mr. Parr,” he said, “but this is the truth.” He added a pious wish that Providence would deal hardly with him if he departed from veracity. “I’m keeping company with a young lady at Brabazon’s bank. One night when she was working late, I was waiting for her when a gentleman came out of the side entrance of the bank and called me. I was surprised to hear him mention my name, and I nearly dropped dead when I saw his face.” “It was Mr. Brabazon?” suggested Parr. “That’s right, sir. He asked me into his private office. I thought he’d got something against Milly.” “Go on,” said Parr, when the man paused. “Well, I’ve got to save myself, haven’t I? And I suppose I’d better speak the whole truth. He told me that Marl was blackmailing him, and that Marl had some letters of his which he kept in his private safe, and offered me a thousand if I’d get them. That’s the truth. And then he gave me an idea that Marl kept a lot of money in the house. He didn’t exactly say so, but that is what he hinted. He knew I’d been inside for burglary, he’d made inquiries about me, and said that I was the right kind of man. Well, sir, I went round and took a squint at the place, and it seemed to me that it was a bit difficult. There were always men servants in the house, except when Mr. Marl was entertaining ladies to supper,” he grinned. “I’d have given up the job, only there’s a young lady in the office that Marl was sweet on.” “Thalia Drummond?” suggested Parr.