“It seems to me to account for pretty well everything,” Roger retorted. “But you always were difficult to please, Alec. Think. The broken vase and the second bullet; how the murder was committed; the fact that the murderer went back into the house again; the agitation about the safe being opened; Mrs. Plant’s behaviour in the morning, her reluctance to give evidence (in case she let out anything of what really happened, you see), and her fright when I sprang on her the fact that I knew she’d been in the library, after all; the disappearance of the footprints; the presence of the powder and the dampness of the handkerchief; Lady Stanworth’s indifference to her brother-in-law’s death (I expect he had some hold over her, too, if the truth were known); the employment of a prize-fighter as a butler, obviously a measure of self-protection; the fact that I heard people moving about late that night; everything! All cleared up and explained.” “Humph!” said Alec noncommittally. “Well, can you find a single flaw in it?” Roger asked, in some exasperation. “If it comes to that,” Alec replied slowly, “why was it that both Mrs. Plant and Jefferson suddenly had no objection to the safe being opened, after they’d both shown that they were anxious to prevent it?” “Easy!” Roger retorted. “While we were upstairs, Jefferson opened the safe and took out the documents. It would only take a minute, after all. Any objection to that?” “Did the inspector leave the keys behind? I thought he put them in his pocket.” “No, he left them on the table, and Jefferson put them in _his_ pocket. I remember noticing that at the time, and wondering why he did it. Now it’s obvious, of course.” “Well, what about that little pile of ashes in the library hearth? You suggested that it might be the remains of some important documents, and you thought that Jefferson looked uncommonly relieved at the idea.” “My mistake at the time,” Roger said promptly. “As for the ashes, they might have been anything. I don’t attach any importance to them.” “But you did!” Alec persisted obstinately. “Yes, excellent but sponge-headed Alexander,” Roger explained patiently, “because I thought at first that they _were_ important. Now I see that I was mistaken, and they _aren’t_. Are you beginning to grasp the idea?” “Well, tell me this, then,” Alec said suddenly. “Why the dickens didn’t Jefferson get the documents out of the safe directly after Stanworth’s death, instead of waiting till the next morning and getting so agitated about it?” “Yes, I thought of that. Presumably because they were both so flustered at what had happened that they forgot all about the documents in their anxiety to cover up their traces and get away.” Alec sniffed slightly. “Rather unlikely that, isn’t it? Not natural, as you’re always so fond of saying.” “Unlikely things do happen sometimes, however. This one did, for instance.”