“Yes, I do,” said Heggitt, nodding. “I should say he did a bigger business in stolen money than any other man in London. You see, it could pass through his bank without anybody being the wiser, and as he did a lot of business abroad and was constantly changing and re-changing money for export, he got away with it. We knew who was fencing it. At least, when I say we knew,” he corrected himself, “we had a shrewd suspicion. As officers of the court, we should, of course, have notified the authorities had we been certain. I thought it better to call to explain to you that it is going to be a very difficult job to trace this money. Most stolen notes are passed on race-courses, but quite a considerable number find their way abroad, where it is a much simpler matter to change them, and where they are ever so much more difficult to trace. You say it was the Crimson Circle who did it?” “Do you know them?” asked Froyant quickly. The lawyer shook his head. “I have never had any dealings with them at all,” he said, “but, of course, I knew about them, and enough to know that they are clever people. It is likely that this man Brabazon has been doing their work, consciously or unconsciously. In that case they might find a difficulty in disposing of the stuff, for a bank-note ‘fence’ is one of the hardest to find. What am I to do when I track one of these notes and have discovered the person who passed it?” “I want you to notify me at once,” said Froyant, “and nobody else. You understand that this is a matter on which my life may hang, and if by any chance the Crimson Circle get to know that I am trying to recover the money it will be a very serious thing for me.” The lawyer agreed. The Crimson Circle apparently interested him, for he lingered, and skilfully plied his employer with questions without Mr. Froyant realising that he was being pumped. “They are something new in criminals,” he said. “In Italy, where the Black Hand thrives, the demand for money, followed by a threat of death, is quite a common occurrence, but I should not have thought it possible in this country. The most amazing thing of all is that the Crimson Circle holds together. I should imagine,” he said thoughtfully, “that there is only one man in it, and that he employs a very considerable number of people unknown to one another and each having his particular job to perform. Otherwise he would have been betrayed a long time ago. It is only the fact that the people serving him do not know him that makes it possible for him to carry on.” He took up his hat. “By the way, did you know Felix Marl? A client of ours is under charge of burgling his house. Mr. Barnet. You may not have heard of him.” Mr. Froyant had not heard of “Flush” Barnet, but he knew Marl, and Marl interested him almost as much as the Crimson Circle interested the lawyer. “I knew Marl. Why do you ask?” The lawyer smiled.