Quarles questioned Constable Poulton closely. The constable had not heard the shots. About half an hour earlier in the evening he had passed Clarence Lodge. There was no light in the house then. Just before one o'clock he had met Mr. Smithers who lived in the next house to Clarence Lodge; he was coming from the direction of the station and said good night. Since then he had seen no one upon his beat. Poulton described the position of the dead man graphically and minutely. He had no doubt he had been shot a few minutes before he saw him. "I searched the house with Griffiths, the officer who came when I blew my whistle; we saw no sign of the others." "How did they get in?" I asked. "A window in the passage there was open," said Poulton. "That's the only way they could have come unless they fastened some window or door again when they had entered." I examined this window carefully. There was no sign that any one had entered this way, no mark upon the catch. Outside the window was a flower bed, and I pointed out to Quarles that if any one had left the house in a hurry, as they would do at the sound of firearms, they would inevitably have left marks upon the flower bed. Quarles had nothing to say against my argument. "I don't believe either exit or entrance was made by this window," I declared. "Have you still got servants in your mind, Wigan?" "I have, to tell the truth I always have had." "The body is our best clue, Wigan. If we can identify that we shall be nearing the end." And then Quarles turned to Poulton. "Isn't there a nephew in the house? We haven't seen him." "I'm told he is abroad, sir," the constable answered. "Do you happen to know him?" "Quite well by sight, sir." Quarles nodded, but the nephew was evidently not disposed of to his Satisfaction. I interviewed the servants closely, including the chauffeur who had heard nothing of the affair until aroused by the police. Hollis was certain that all the doors and windows were securely fastened. Quarles rather annoyed me by suggesting that the thieves might have entered by an upstairs window or even by the front door. "If you look at the upstairs windows I think you will find that impossible," said Hollis. "We will look, and also at the front door." The professor made a pretense of examining the front door rather carefully. "You're sure this was locked and bolted last night?" "Quite, sir." "It looks substantial and innocent." The only window which interested Quarles upstairs was that of a small room in the front of the house overlooking the drive, but, as the butler pointed out, no one could have got in there without a ladder. "No, no, I suppose not," and Quarles did not say another word until we saw Mr. Crosland again. Then he immediately inquired about the nephew. "George is in Paris, at least he was three days ago," and Crosland produced a picture postcard sent to his mother. "We are expecting him back at the end of the week."