“I do not suspect or accuse anybody,” interrupted the detective. “Some person enters the house at night—of that I feel convinced.”
“You think so?”
“I do. The question is, how are we to find out the guilty party?”
“That I must leave to you.”
This conversation took place in the little room at the back of the bar.
Mr. Wrench rose from his seat and cast his eyes around, then he walked into the bar itself and glanced at an article of furniture which in shape and size very much resembled a large wardrobe.
“What is that, Mrs. Sanderson?” he inquired, pointing to the article in question.
“Oh, that is a large press, or cabinet, which my husband had made for the purpose of stowing away plate, linen, and other articles.”
“Ah! I see; it has folding-doors. Can I open them?”
“Yes, if you like; here is the key.”