Mrs. Plant and Alec were already in the library; the former perfectly cool and collected, the latter, to Roger’s eyes at any rate, somewhat ill at ease. It was clear, Roger reflected, with some uneasiness, that Alec did not at all like the highly ambiguous position in which he stood with regard to that lady. What would he say when he heard the possibility that his hostess also might not be unconcerned with this dark and mysterious business? It would be just like Alec to throw up the whole affair and insist on all cards being laid upon the table; and that would have broken Roger’s heart just at the moment. Inspector Mansfield was regrettably lacking in an appreciation of dramatic effects. He did not gaze around him from beneath lowered brows. He did not mutter to himself so that everyone could strain forward to catch his ominous words. He did not even make a speech. All he did was to observe cheerfully, “Well, let’s get this business over,” and casually open the safe. He could not have made less fuss had it been a tin of sardines. But in spite of the inspector’s lamentable behaviour, drama was not altogether lacking. As the heavy door swung open, there was an involuntary catching of breath and heads were craned anxiously forward. Roger, watching the faces of the others instead of the centre of attraction, noted quickly that a flicker of anxiety flashed across the countenances of both Mrs. Plant and Jefferson. “Neither of ’em have seen inside, then,” he thought. “Their information came from a third person. That’s certain, anyway.” But it was Lady Stanworth who held his attention most closely. Thinking herself unobserved for the moment, she had not troubled to hide her feelings. She was standing a little behind the others, peering between their heads. Her breath was coming quickly, and her bosom rising and falling almost tumultuously; her face was quite white. For a few seconds Roger thought she was going to faint. Then, as if she was reassured, the colour came back into her face and she sighed ever so softly. “Well, Inspector?” she asked in normal tones. “What is there?” The inspector was rapidly scrutinising the contents. “As I expected,” he replied, a trifle disappointedly. “Nothing of any importance as far as I’m concerned, my lady.” He glanced quickly through a bundle of papers that he held in his hands. “Share certificates; business documents; contracts; more share certificates.” He replaced the bundle in the safe and took out a cash-box. “Whew!” he whistled softly, as he opened it. “Mr. Stanworth kept plenty of ready money on hand, didn’t he?” Roger pricked up his ears and followed the direction of the inspector’s gaze. Lying loosely at the bottom of the cash-box was a thick wad of banknotes. The inspector picked it out and flicked them over. “Upwards of four thousand pounds, I should say,” he remarked with fitting awe. “That doesn’t look as if he was in financial difficulties, does it?”