“I’ll tell you the story,” answered Spargo, “and in a summary. This morning a man named Webster, a farmer, a visitor to London, came to me at the office, and said that being at the House of Commons last night he witnessed a meeting between Marbury and a man who was evidently a Member of Parliament, and saw them go away together. I showed him an album of photographs of the present members, and he immediately recognized the portrait of one of them as the man in question. I thereupon took the portrait to the Anglo-Orient Hotel—Mrs. Walters also at once recognized it as that of the man who came to the hotel with Marbury, stopped with him a while in his room, and left with him. The man is Mr. Stephen Aylmore, the member for Brookminster.” Rathbury expressed his feelings in a sharp whistle. “I know him!” he said. “Of course—I remember Mrs. Walters’s description now. But his is a familiar type—tall, grey-bearded, well-dressed. Um!—well, we’ll have to see Mr. Aylmore at once.” “I’ve seen him,” said Spargo. “Naturally! For you see, Mrs. Walters gave me a bit more evidence. This morning they found a loose diamond on the floor of Number 20, and after it was found the waiter who took the drinks up to Marbury and his guest that night remembered that when he entered the room the two gentlemen were looking at a paper full of similar objects. So then I went on to see Mr. Aylmore. You know young Breton, the barrister?—you met him with me, you remember?” “The young fellow whose name and address were found on Marbury,” replied Rathbury. “I remember.” “Breton is engaged to Aylmore’s daughter,” continued Spargo. “Breton took me to Aylmore’s club. And Aylmore gives a plain, straightforward account of the matter which he’s granted me leave to print. It clears up a lot of things. Aylmore knew Marbury over twenty years ago. He lost sight of him. They met accidentally in the lobby of the House on the evening preceding the murder. Marbury told him that he wanted his advice about those rare things, Australian diamonds. He went back with him to his hotel and spent a while with him; then they walked out together as far as Waterloo Bridge, where Aylmore left him and went home. Further, the scrap of grey paper is accounted for. Marbury wanted the address of a smart solicitor; Aylmore didn’t know of one but told Marbury that if he called on young Breton, he’d know, and would put him in the way to find one. Marbury wrote Breton’s address down. That’s Aylmore’s story. But it’s got an important addition. Aylmore says that when he left Marbury, Marbury had on him a quantity of those diamonds in a wash-leather bag, a lot of gold, and a breast-pocket full of letters and papers. Now—there was nothing on him when he was found dead in Middle Temple Lane.” Spargo stopped and lighted a fresh cigarette. “That’s all I know,” he said. “What do you make of it?” Rathbury leaned back in his chair in his apparently favourite attitude and stared hard at the dusty ceiling above him.