Mr. Beale gave a half-shrug.
“Considering that I put the case in your hands, Chief, instead of the French authorities, I think that I'm hardly being treated quite fairly. Surely there can be no objection to my being present at the search of the room. Remember I'm in a very responsible position.”
“Quite so, sir, and I'm sure I'm much obliged to you,” the other bowed, “but I'm afraid routine work has to be done as routine.”
“I shall report what you say to the proper quarter.” Mr. Beale spoke very quietly.
For a second Pointer hesitated. The case did owe Mr. Beale a tremendous lot. He had notified the finding of Erskine's dead body. In some equally mysterious way he had found the “wanted” man. But Pointer thought that the American's flair for discoveries betokened some private knowledge which might alter many obscurities if he would speak. So he contented himself with merely bowing.
Mr. Beale shot him one of his steely glances.
“I shall expect you at the depôt,” he said briefly. “I suppose you are taking the four twenty-five back.” He strode off with as much dignity as his short stature allowed. On the whole, the police-officer was rather glad that he was annoyed, as he might be the less likely to notice the French detective to whom Pointer had spoken on his way in to Lille, and who was to follow the Editor's every step.
When the door closed, Carter flung a bunch of keys down on the table. “You've got the grip. I suppose you didn't find in it what you are all looking for! You won't find it in the trunk either.” His tone was rough. His whole intonation had changed from that of a well-educated man to something coarser.
Pointer signed to Watts to open the trunk. Leaving him to guard the prisoner, the Chief Inspector himself searched it. One of the first things he picked up was a London telephone directory; after that came a list of Paris bankers. Just the literature to expect from a man of “Green's” reputation. He ran his fingers among the clothes. His practised tips encountered something in the lining of a coat. He drew it out, made a slit, and, inserting a finger, brought out a long string of pearls with an antique emerald fastening. He laid it beside him without a word. Carter had risen from his chair and was watching intently. When the pearls lay on the table he made a curious gesture with his hands, and, sinking back on to his chair, covered his face, which had turned livid. Pointer went on methodically. Several rings, a diamond necklace, and a jewelled pendant were discovered. Finally the trunk was turned upside down, and on the very bottom he pounced on a twist of newspaper. Inside were a few screws. The two officers examined them closely, then the Chief Inspector took out an envelope and fastened them carefully inside.
“Any explanation you wish to offer, Carter? I have cautioned you already?”