“A few questions that we want cleared up,” said Pointer imperturbably. “Shut the door, Watts. These papers, Mr. Beale, were found in your flat at Lyons.”
“Well, suppose they were?”
“May I ask how they came into your possession, sir?”
“Bought 'em.”
“From whom, sir?”
Mr. Beale's eyes travelled slowly from the papers to the officers and back from them to the papers.
“Off an agent of mine. His name would mean nothing to you.”
“I must ask for it all the same, sir.”
“Godard.”
“I think not. Godard—Levinsky is his real name—told us, when we interviewed him at Lyons, that the papers in question were shown him by you, and that he made copies of them from which he worked.”