At the same time the coincidence of the dates was remarkable and French felt that he could not dismiss the matter from his mind until he had satisfied himself that it really was the accident for which it had been taken. He wondered if any tests were possible, and gradually four considerations occurred to him. First, there was the breakdown of the car. If the breakdown had been an accident the whole affair was almost certainly an accident, for he did not think it possible that advantage could have been taken of an unexpected incident to commit the murder. The details of the disposal of the crate had been too well worked out to have been improvised. But if the breakdown had been faked it meant foul play. Secondly, a valuable check in all such investigations was the making of a time-table. French felt sure that if murder had been committed the car must have gone from Tavistock to the works and back to where it was found. If not, he did not see how the body could have been taken to the works. Probably, also, it had waited at the works while the murderer was substituting the body for the duplicator. Then the radiator must have been hot when the car was abandoned, and it was cold when Sergeant Daw arrived on the scene. If French could find out how long all these operations would have taken he might find that they could not have been carried out in the time available. Thirdly, French wondered if in a place of the size of the Veda Works there was no night watchman, and if there was, how the contents of the crate could have been changed without his knowledge. Lastly, there was the question of the disposal of the duplicator. Assuming that murder had been done, it was extremely probable that the murderer had found the duplicator packed in the crate. How could he have got rid of so heavy and cumbrous an object? If these four points were investigated French thought he would obtain sufficient information to settle the main question. It was, therefore, with a second line of enquiries in his mind that he returned to Ashburton and walked out to the Veda Works. These stood a short distance beyond the town at the end of North Street, and formed a rather imposing collection of buildings, small but modern and well designed. The principal block was of five stories, showing narrow pilasters of cream-coloured concrete separating wide glazed panels. The remaining buildings were single-storey sheds. The place seemed spotlessly clean and tidy. French entered a door labelled “Office,” and sending in his private card, asked for Mr. Fogden. He was shown into a comfortably furnished room in which a youngish man with a pleasant face sat at a table desk. “Good afternoon, Mr. French. Won’t you sit down? What can I do for you, sir?”