In the light of the vestibule lamp above Chief Inspector Tripp’s grey eyes had a passive smile.
‘I thought you’d be surprised,’ he said, as Templeton’s jaw dropped. ‘We have two reasons for believing that Lord John went to the “Marquise” last night after the Ferrars & d’Arblay robbery. If our information’s correct, the big West End hotels may be his next zone of activity. But my immediate point to-night, Sir Richard, is the file of papers I handed you yesterday.’
‘Yes?’
‘That file contains the whole of our documentary evidence against Lord John, though of course the final links in the chain are still to be found. I don’t know if you’ve had time to go into it——’
‘I did. This afternoon. I agree with you, Tripp. These holograph letters will be invaluable when it comes to framing an indictment for murder. But I’ll go into that more fully at our conference with the Assistant Commissioner to-morrow morning.’
‘I’m glad the legal view confirms our own, sir. Now, here’s what I’ve come to make certain about. Are you satisfied, Sir Richard, that these papers are secure for the night?’
‘Perfectly. They’re in the safe in my private quarters at the “Marquise”.’
Tripp looked relieved. ‘Not that our friend Lord John can possibly know you have them—not that he’s even aware of their existence! But when we’re dealing with a man of his calibre, I believe in erring on the right side. May I suggest this, Sir Richard: If you’ll tell me when you’re likely to be back at the hotel I’ll be there, and can take the file of documents back to the Yard to-night. That’ll relieve you of all responsibility.’
‘Suits me admirably,’ declared Templeton. He glanced at his watch. ‘Look here, Tripp. I can come with you now. I’ve done my duty to my hostess. Get a cab, and I’ll be with you in a few minutes.’
‘I don’t want to drag you away, Sir Richard,’ demurred the officer genially. ‘The Bar is entitled to its relaxation.’
But Templeton was eager to be off.
‘If you’ve got an hour to spare,’ he said in the taxi-cab, ‘I’d like to run over these papers with you now.’
‘By the way, Sir Richard, I don’t know if you’ve noticed something peculiar about them?’
Templeton sat silent in his corner.
‘They contain,’ went on the detective, ‘one or two rather interesting clues to the identity of the gentleman we’re so anxious to find.’
Templeton hesitated. ‘I think they do,’ he assented.
‘So you did spot that, sir?’ said Tripp quickly. ‘As a matter of fact, the Criminal Record Office has already had them through its hands. Fleming of the C.R.O. wants another look at them to-morrow. I didn’t mention that aspect of it to you before,’ he added, ‘because of course it’s outside your particular scope.’ He laughed in his slow quiet way. ‘Possibly the C.I.D. lost a useful man, Sir Richard, when you were called to the Bar.’ . . . As the taxi-cab drew up, he leaned forward to open the door for his companion and followed him into the hotel.
On the second floor Templeton entered his suite with a pass-key, pulling the outer door shut behind him. His room, overlooking the twinkling lights of St. James’s Park, was panelled in a delicate parchment tint and was furnished to combine the functions of office and sitting-room. Along one wall were ebony cabinets, glass-fronted, containing the small but choice collection of jade and other Chinese hard stone so frequently referred to by newspaper gossip-writers. A door in the panelling swung back at Templeton’s touch, revealing a safe built into the wall.
‘I don’t believe even the late Fred Leman could break into this with one night’s work,’ he remarked, pushing back the slide from the superimposed combination arcs.
‘A new design,’ said Chief Inspector Tripp. ‘A four alphabet unit, I notice! That must be nearly half a million chances to one against a criminal! An article like this, Sir Richard, gladdens the heart of a policeman——’
He stopped and looked inquiringly at the barrister. Templeton’s hand was in his inner pocket.
‘Nothing wrong, I hope?’
‘No, nothing wrong.’ Sir Richard turned and unlocked the top drawer of his desk. Several minutes passed while he made a careful search, then he straightened up again, and laughed.
‘Sorry to keep you waiting, Tripp. I’m looking for a note-book—a small black silk note-book where I keep a record of the combination of the safe. It’s probably in my bedroom; I won’t be a moment.’ He left the room, and when he returned his face was grave.
‘I’m sorry, Tripp. I—I don’t know what to say. I’ll swear I put that note-book in my pocket this evening before I went out. I always carry it with me—I’m most particular about it. This—this is very awkward——’
‘I hope it isn’t mislaid,’ said the detective lightly.
Templeton turned again to the desk and unlocked other drawers. ‘I may have dropped it in here absent-mindedly. No; I’ll swear I didn’t. I can’t understand it, Tripp.’ He searched his pockets again. ‘That note-book can’t be lost—it’s impossible.’ He avoided the grey eyes that were watching him calmly. Supposing I’ve mislaid the thing, Tripp, how long would it take the manufacturers of the safe to get it open?’ He turned away with a gesture of impatience. ‘But it won’t come to that. The note-book’s bound to be somewhere. It’s a thin book with a black silk cover. Where the devil can I have put it? I’m desperately sorry holding you up. This has never happened before, and I’ll make certain it’ll never happen again. I’m confident I’ll lay my hands on it in a moment.’
‘I hope so, Sir Richard.’ The detective made a rapid calculation. ‘Working day and night,’ he said, ‘the manufacturers might take as much as ten days before they cover every possible combination.’
‘Ten days,’ muttered Templeton. ‘It’s unthinkable. It—it would hold up your investigations?’
‘If the combination’s lost, Sir Richard, I must ask your permission to put our safe-expert on the job, even though he has to use oxy-acetylene and explosive. In the circumstances, the Chief Commissioner would order it.’
Sir Richard Templeton dropped into a chair beside the desk, his head resting on his hands, his face white. ‘This is a damnable situation, Tripp,’ he said moistening his lips.
‘You change the combination every day?’ asked the detective quietly.
‘Yes.’
‘And you remember none of the letters?’
‘Give me a few minutes to think. I’m trying to recall the page in my note-book where I wrote them down.’ He turned round to the desk, his head between his hands. ‘Yes, smoke by all means, my dear fellow.’
As Tripp lit the briar pipe which was seldom out of his mouth, his tranquil eyes cast little thoughtful glances at the bowed figure of the barrister.
‘I think perhaps,’ he said slowly, ‘I’d better get Hollis on the telephone. He’s our safe-expert—he lives in Victoria.’
‘Don’t do that!’ exclaimed Templeton suddenly. ‘I’ve got an idea. I’ve just remembered my secretary was in this room when I was putting the papers away. It’s possible—there’s just a faint chance—she may be able to recall some of the letters of the combination. I think I repeated them aloud as I turned the dials—as a matter of fact, I usually do——’ He jumped to his feet. ‘I’ve got it, Tripp! It’s coming back to me. Secretary!—I used four letters from that very word.’ He went quickly to the safe and spun round the polished metal arcs. ‘I’ll try the first four——’ He gave the handle a tug, but it stood firm. ‘No good. Now the first two and last two.’