“No, sir; just strapped it. To be quite frank, Mr. Baxter has lost the key of it. That happened years ago. If he ever uses it he always takes it in the railway carriage with him.”
“Were you in the room when the police found it?”
“No, sir, I wasn’t.”
“Bailey, what are Mr. Baxter’s arrangements here? Who are the other servants?”
“There’s only my wife and myself, sir. It’s quite a small flat. The dining-room, the sitting-room, the kitchen, and three bedrooms.”
“Is it ever left entirely empty?”
“Not as a rule, sir; if one’s out the other’s in. Mr. Baxter makes a point of that, unless sometimes when he’s been in himself he’s told me to take my wife out for a walk.”
“Then it’s never been quite empty?”
“Well, I can’t say that. Some time ago my wife’s mother was very ill, and she went home to nurse her. You know, sir, I used to be soldier-servant to Mr. Baxter’s brother—the one who was killed in South Africa. He was in the Army Service Corps. So I could do most things. So Mr. Baxter said that if I could manage his breakfasts he would dine out till my wife came back. That was how we managed it; but, of course, I often had to run out to do shopping, and then the flat would be empty.”
“There would be the chance then that somebody could enter the flat without you knowing?”