ded quietly.

"A great deal, if it's true, as I know it to be. Now, Mr. Grell, you are
not obliged to answer any questions unless you like--you know that--but
I warn you that your failing to do so cannot prevent us arresting the
guilty person. We know you are innocent--though whether you may be
charged as an accessory after the fact or not is another question. What
do you say?"

The prisoner had leaned his arm on the table. His fists were clenched
until the finger-nails bit into the flesh.

"If you've made up your minds, so much the better for me," he said with
a half laugh. "Who have you fixed your suspicions on?"

It was clear that he had doggedly set himself to avoid affording them
any help. His chin was as fixed as that of Foyle himself. The strong
wills of the two men had crossed. The superintendent felt all his
fighting qualities rise. He was determined to break down the other's
wall of imperturbability. He accepted Grell's silence as a challenge.

Thornton's gentle, cultured voice broke in. "We are only anxious to
spare you as much as possible. You are a prominent man, and though you
must be brought in, it will serve no purpose to increase what will
create enough scandal."

"I fear you are wasting your time, gentlemen," said Grell, stretching
himself wearily. "Won't it cut this short if I admit that I killed
Goldenburg? I will sign a confession if it will please you."

The eyes of Thornton and Foyle met for a second. There was a meaning
look in the superintendent's, as who should say, "I told you so." Then
he took from his breast-pocket a piece of paper, which he unfolded as he
smiled amiably at Grell.

"That is childlike. Your finger-prints prove it is false. Perhaps you
will tell us what underlies this note that you sent to Lady Eileen
Meredith the day you left London."

He read:

"We are both in imminent danger unless I can procure sufficient
money to help me evade the search that is being made for me. If I
am arrested, I fear ultimately exposure must come. If you have no
other way of obtaining money, will you try to get an open cheque
from your father? You could cash it yourself for notes and gold and
bring it to me. For God's sake do what you can. I am desperate."

He read it swiftly, as though certain of the accuracy of the words. As a
matter of fact, he was not. He had pieced together the broken words and
phrases that he had taken from the burning paper in Eileen