move him.

The superintendent reviewed the situation impartially, his brow
furrowed, his lips tight pressed together. He was as certain as though
he held the other's signed confession that Robert Grell had it in his
power to say who killed Goldenburg. How would he break through his
silence? For, come what might, he felt that Grell's place was rather in
the witness-box than in the dock. That he preferred the dock was proof
of the strength of the motive which actuated him. No amount of
persuasion, Foyle knew, would make him open his lips. Disgrace by the
fear of a public trial had failed to move him. If he was to be induced
to tell his secret it must be by strategy.

Heldon Foyle held his own code of ethics in his profession. In his own
mind he held that all things which were legal were permissible in
facilitating the ends of justice. Grell could, if he were so minded,
give sworn evidence on what Foyle could only suspect. Grimly the
superintendent resolved that in a contest of will he would win.

A gentle tap at the door broke his train of reflection, and the white
face of the housekeeper peered in. Her eyes rested first on the sleeping
man, but his attitude concealed the handcuffs. She turned a
half-frightened glance on Foyle.

"Excuse me, sir. I couldn't sleep, so I dressed, and thought I would
look in to see if Mr. Grell or you would like anything. Perhaps a cup of
coffee----"

"No, thank you," said the superintendent. "By the way, now you're here
you'll perhaps tell me whether you expected Mr. Grell's arrival. Didn't
you think he was dead?"

She advanced a little into the room, closing the door behind her. "That
I did, sir," she answered timorously. "I couldn't make it out when I got
his telegram from Liverpool. It gave me a shock."

"From Liverpool?" repeated Foyle slowly. "So he sent a wire from
Liverpool, did he? Would you mind if I had a look at it?"

He could see the hesitation in her face and went on: "See here, Mrs.
Ellis, there has been a murder, though, fortunately, Mr. Grell was not
the victim. I am interested in the matter, and you will be acting in
his interests if you show it to me."

"I don't know what to do, I'm sure," quavered the woman irresolutely. "I
was supposed to have burnt it. Hadn't I better wake him up, and then he
can let you look if he likes?"

A strong hand pushed her back as she would have endeavoured to rouse
Grell. "I shouldn't worry him if I were you," said Foyle. "You may t