that we have been
rather wrong in our first impressions of the finger-prints. But it never
does to take chances. Suppose you go and take charge at Berkeley Square.
There are four men there already. Lady Eileen has certainly had
something to do with this, and we don't want to lose sight of her."

Green went off, his lips puckered into a whistle. Thornton gave a shrug.
"And now?" he said. "It seems to me rather a deadlock if Mr. Grell and
the Princess remain obstinate."

"Yes," agreed Foyle. "It's one of those cases in which it is a pity
we're not allowed to adopt the French method of confrontation. Still,
there's a shot in the locker yet. Perhaps you might care to come along
with me and see Grell now. These disclosures of Ivan's make a
difference, and rather bear out a suspicion I've had since I talked with
Grell."

The Assistant Commissioner agreed, and in a little they were walking to
Malchester Row police station. The office of Bolt, the divisional
detective-inspector, was empty, and with an order that they were not to
be disturbed, Foyle and his chief entered the room. Under the escort of
a uniformed inspector, Grell was brought in. The superintendent closed
and locked the door, Grell moving stiffly aside to allow him to do so.

"Do you know Sir Hilary Thornton?" asked Foyle suavely.

Grell bowed. The Assistant Commissioner extended his hand. "How do you
do, Mr. Grell? I should have been glad to have met you under happier
circumstances, but I assure you that the respect in which I have always
held you is not lessened by this unfortunate business."

The prisoner shook hands doubtfully and his eyes flashed a questioning
look upon Foyle. The superintendent's face was blandly unconscious of
the effect of the Assistant Commissioner's remark, although the words
had been rehearsed and revised a dozen times during their walk to the
police station. But he had to do with a man as astute and ready as
himself.

"That's very good of you, I'm sure," said Grell, and a smile illumined
his face as he added: "Though I don't know why this matter should
increase your respect."

"Don't you?" said Foyle, laying stress on his words and eyeing the other
meaningly. "Suppose it is because since I left you this morning, Ivan
Abramovitch has made a full statement to me?"

A little apprehensive shudder swept through Grell's frame. His lips
opened to say something, but he checked himself suddenly. "What's that
to do with me?" he deman