s of the French-windows.

Finally he returned to the table, where, dropping on one knee on the
left-hand side of the body, he drew a penknife from his pocket, and
proceeded with great care and deliberation to slit up the outer seam
of the trousers so that the pocket lay exposed.

This in turn he cut open, taking care not to disturb the bunch of
keys, which, attached to a chain, lay on the thigh, a little to the
left.

The others watched him with wide-eyed interest, the inspector
breathing heavily.

Having assured himself that the keys would not slide off, Malcolm
Sage rose and turned to Dawkins:

"I want a plate from the right, the left, the front, and from behind
and above. Also an exposure showing the position of the legs, and
another of the keys."

Dawkins inclined his head. He was a grey, bald-headed little man who
had only one thought in life, his profession. He seldom spoke, and
when he did his lips seemed scarcely to part, the words slipping out
as best they could.

Happy in the knowledge that his beloved camera was once more to be
one of the principal witnesses in the detection of a crime, Dawkins
set himself to his task.

"When Dawkins has finished," said Malcolm Sage, turning to the
inspector, who had been watching the proceedings with ill-disguised
impatience, "you can remove the body; but leave the pistol. Give Mr.
Challoner's keys to Sir James. And now I think we might lunch," he
said, turning to Sir James.

Malcolm Sage's attitude towards the official police was generally
determined by their attitude towards him. In the Department Z days,
he had been known at Scotland Yard as "Sage & Onions." What the
phrase lacked in wit was compensated for by the feeling with which
it was frequently uttered. The police officers made no effort to
dissemble the contempt they felt for a department in which they saw
a direct rebuke to themselves. Later, however, their attitude
changed, and Malcolm Sage was brought into close personal touch with
many of the best-known officers of the Criminal Investigation
Department.

He had never been known to speak disparagingly, or patronisingly, of
Scotland Yard. On the other hand, he lost no opportunity of
emphasising the fact that it was the head-quarters of the most
efficient police force in the world. He did not always agree with
its methods, which in many ways he regarded as out-of-date.

As Malcolm Sage left the room, the inspector shrugged his shoulders.
The whole