“It ought to be, but unfortunately Martin can’t say what make of car it was, neither can he remember the number. In all probability, he never saw that. I’ve had investigations going on all day, trying to trace any car that’s been abandoned anywhere round about, but up to the present no news of anything has come through. Here we are. Jump out.” The Crown Prince and Daphne fell in behind them. “Come through into the private room,” said Bannister. The constable on duty in the charge-room saluted promptly as they passed through. “Is Sergeant Godfrey in?” demanded Bannister, authoritatively. “Yes, sir.” “Tell him I want him—at once.” The constable disappeared even more promptly than he had saluted, to return in a few moments with the Sergeant behind him. “Any more news, Godfrey?” “No, sir—I should think the news first thing this morning was sufficient,” he added—rather lugubriously. “I want the dead girl’s suit-case,” said Bannister, briskly. “You took it——!” “It’s in that cupboard,” rapped Bannister indicating the cupboard with a gesture of the fore-finger. “I put it there last night—you’ve got the keys.” Godfrey nodded and quickly unlocked the cupboard door. Bannister pulled out the case and stood it upright on the table. As has been previously stated, it resembled hundreds of others, which very obvious fact made Anthony shake his head with a feeling of misgiving. But not so—Daphne Carruthers. That lady left the Crown Prince’s side and excitedly pulled the two tie-on labels down to the level of her vision. Her eyes flashed with her excitement. “_They’re my labels_,” she cried, “_in my handwriting._” She fished impetuously in her vanity-bag and produced a key. It fitted. The catches clicked and the case swung open as she pulled at it. “And they’re my clothes inside,” she cried in increased amazement. “What on earth is the meaning of this? She’s taken all my things as well as my name.” Her eyes were wide-opened and wondering, as she stood there waiting for one of them to answer. Nobody obliged her—but Mr. Bathurst noticed that the Crown Prince was trembling with excitement; the ash of his cigarette was shaken to the floor. Chapter VIII Daphne Draws Up the Blinds He gazed at her—amazed and incredulous—fascinated at the sudden and unexpected turn that she had given to the march of events. But his emotion at the news was such that he sought for and sank weakly into a convenient chair. Anthony then turned his attention to Bannister and to Sergeant Godfrey. Bannister’s eyes were gleaming with a strange mixture of curiosity and satisfaction. Here was a witness at last upon whose evidence he felt that he could thoroughly rely. “This is most extraordinarily interesting, Miss Carruthers. Please explain how your luggage comes to be in the dead girl’s possession and in Room 66 at the ‘Lauderdale’ Hotel?”