“It’s quite a common custom of the trade,” he said. “One can conceive a dozen reasons for it in the press of business. Really, Mr Balm, such an act affords no grounds whatever for suspicion.”
“Do you know that Valkenburg has shut up his house since the trial and gone away?”
“Has he? To South Africa like enough. It’s quite probable.”
“And that the girl, his servant, who denied having received the parcel, has gone too?”
“To South Africa?”
“No. I mean she has left her situation.”
“Well, now, he wouldn’t want to leave her shut up in the empty house, would he?” He sniggered, his hairy face creasing all over. “No, Mr Balm,” he said. “I see what you’re driving at; but it won’t wash, sir. There was never a hint of collusion between the two. Of course if he had bolted and taken the girl with him, there might have been some shadow of a reason for suspicion. But I believe, upon my word, sir, that you’re taking away the man’s character. You must remember that if anyone was to profit by such a fraud, it would not be Valkenburg but Hamlin.”
Gilead rose.
“Well, yes, it would seem so,” he said.
“Seem so!” The Chief Superintendent rose too. “I don’t know what’s got into your head about this business, Mr Balm,” he said; “but unless you’ve something up your sleeve—” he paused, in sudden wonder. “Have you?” he asked—“something unguessed at by us here?”