“Very good,” responded Bannister. “Then perhaps you can answer this!” He looked intently at Morley, who looked more startled and discomposed than ever. “Information has been given to the Police that certain bank-notes were stolen from the unfortunate girl—in fact for all we know that theft may have been the motive of the murder. I say—for all we know. The numbers of those stolen notes are also known to the Police. Does that interest you at all, Mr. Morley?” Morley licked his lips and gazed at his questioner with something of the look that one associates with a rabbit fascinated by a snake. “No,” he mumbled dryly. “Why in the name of goodness should it?” Bannister’s face grew sterner. “Then I will proceed, Mr. Morley. _Three of those stolen notes have been traced!_ They were paid into the Seabourne branch of the Southern and Home Counties Bank. They came from the ‘Cassandra’ Hotel.” He stopped here and watched Morley so closely that not the slightest movement of the latter’s face could escape him. But only for a moment. “The ‘Cassandra’ Hotel people took them from a gentleman who is staying there. Another of your clients, Mr. Morley, and one whom you didn’t mention just now—a certain Captain Willoughby.” Morley went very white—his face seemed to be drained suddenly of every vestige of colour. “Well?” he said thickly. “Well—and supposing I do know this gentleman, this Captain Willoughby, supposing he is a client of mine—what about it?” “A very reasonable question, Mr. Morley,” said Bannister, “and quite one that I expected.” He became almost suave. “I shall be delighted to answer it. I have interviewed this Captain Willoughby in reference to his possession of these particular bank-notes and he in turn refers me to _you_.” “To _me_? To _me_? Tell me, Inspector, tell me more about these notes. What value were they?” “Twenty pounds, Mr. Morley. Two ‘fives’ and a ‘ten.’” Morley sprang to his feet and nodded excitedly. “I knew it,” he cried, “I knew it! Everything is all right!” “Knew what?” demanded Bannister. “Wait a minute, Mr. Inspector. Have a little patience and I will show you something that will interest you very much. Yes—yes—very much indeed.” He rubbed his palms appreciatively and went to his desk. What he had just heard had evidently made a big difference to his outlook. He pulled open a drawer on the left-hand side. He rummaged therein for a few seconds and then extracted an envelope. This done he came back to the Inspector and Godfrey. “Look at that!” he exclaimed triumphantly. He held something towards them. It was a five-pound note. “The number, I mean,” cried the Jew. Bannister referred to his tell-tale list. “It is one of them,” cried Morley again. “Yes? Am I then right? It is one of the missing numbers? For a certainty—eh?” “It is, Mr. Morley,” announced Bannister gravely, “and I shall be obliged with the explanation.”