"Yes, sir," answered Green. "She's at Malchester Row now. There was no trouble at all. She came up to the Grange at half-past three, in a car, and asked the maid who answered the door for Mrs. Ellis. The girl showed her into a sitting-room, acting on my instructions, and I walked in on her and told her I should detain her. She was angry at first, but in a moment or two she laughed, and asked if Mr. Grell was taken. That was all there was to it. I brought her back straight away by train. She seemed to treat it as a joke, but never a word about the case did she utter." "And how did you get on, Foyle?" demanded the Assistant Commissioner. The superintendent plumped into a chair. "I am sending a man up to get a statement from Ivan," he said. "There's much to be said for that Russian if his story is true--and I couldn't see any holes in it." He related particulars of the interview that had taken place in the cell. Neither Thornton nor Green spoke till he had finished. The Assistant Commissioner smoothed his moustache, Green rubbed his head. "Then Grell admitted the murder to Ivan?" said the latter, turning a puzzled face to Foyle. "You told me he was not the murderer." "Nor was he," answered the superintendent. "According to Ivan, there was no blood on his clothes or on his hands a few minutes after Goldenburg was killed." "Well, this beats all," exclaimed Green. "I'm hanged if I understand!" Foyle lowered his voice to a whisper, and Green's saturnine face became a study as he listened. He gave a little gasp. "It lies between the three of them," said Foyle. "I am inclined to believe that we have been rather wrong in our first impressions of the finger-prints. But it never does to take chances. Suppose you go and take charge at Berkeley Square. There are four men there already. Lady Eileen has certainly had something to do with this, and we don't want to lose sight of her." Green went off, his lips puckered into a whistle. Thornton gave a shrug. "And now?" he said. "It seems to me rather a deadlock if Mr. Grell and the Princess remain obstinate." "Yes," agreed Foyle. "It's one of those cases in which it is a pity we're not allowed to adopt the French method of confrontation. Still, there's a shot in the locker yet. Perhaps you might care to come along with me and see Grell now. These disclosures of Ivan's make a difference, and rather bear out a suspicion I've had since I talked with Grell." The Assistant Commissioner agreed, and in a little they were walking to Malchester Row police station. The office of Bolt, the divisional detective-inspector, was empty, and with an order that they were not to be disturbed, Foyle and his chief entered the room. Under the escort of a uniformed inspector, Grell was brought in. The superintendent closed and locked the door, Grell moving stiffly aside to allow him to do so. "Do you know Sir Hilary Thornton?" asked Foyle suavely.