The gentleman thus addressed took a moment or two before replying. Mr. Bathurst never hurried unless necessity demanded. “Yes—perhaps I do. But it’s an extraordinarily baffling case, I must say that. I don’t think I’ve ever been called into a problem that presented so many puzzling points. To me at the moment, the question that requires the most delicate answer is, ‘why was Miss Delaney’s identity so cleverly and so deliberately confused with that of Miss Carruthers?’” “I think that can be answered quite easily,” replied Bannister, with a touch of impatience. “In fact you outlined it yourself at Seabourne—it was done to gain time. To gain time to accomplish something. You haven’t altered your own opinion—surely?” Bannister eyed him keenly. “You don’t quite get me, Inspector,” said Anthony, unperturbed at the suggestion. “I’m going a step further along the road—that’s all. What I mean now is this. Miss Delaney’s identity, we are agreed, was hidden under somebody else’s. Now tell me this! Was it sufficient for the murderer that the dead girl when discovered should be thought to be _anybody but Sheila Delaney_ or _definitely thought to be Daphne Carruthers_? Do you see the point there? It’s a distinction with a big difference! You see now what I’m driving at, don’t you?” He paused—then went on rapidly, “In other words is Daphne Carruthers a more important card in the pack than we think? Is she _the_ card?” He watched Bannister very carefully as he put the question to him. The Inspector thrust his hands into his pockets and paced backwards and forwards as he turned the question over. Anthony had raised a new aspect of the case. Mr. Stark polished the silver knob of his walking-stick most assiduously. He felt honoured to be present at such a conference. He became almost imperial. It was a story that would gain appreciably in the recounting. His already considerable reputation as a _raconteur_ would be—Bannister broke in upon the flight of his fancy. “You’ve given me a poser, Mr. Bathurst—and I’m quite prepared to admit as much. Certainly Daphne Carruthers can’t altogether be ruled out. I’ll grant that. Then there’s another point to be considered. Where does the Carruthers–Crown Prince–Captain Willoughby interest impinge on the Delaney–Alan Warburton connection?—that’s what I can’t fathom—I confess it’s got me fairly wondering.” Anthony smiled—his slow, quiet smile. The smile that always seemed to contain the quality of assurance. “There’s one common factor though to both sides of that equation. Have you realised that?” Bannister looked a trifle bewildered. “What’s that, Mr. Bathurst—I don’t quite——?” “Major Desmond Carruthers—the gentleman that was killed in the Spring of last year. He was Daphne’s uncle and also I believe a close friend of Colonel Delaney—he fits into each part of your little problem, you see.”