He also had reports on what the three prisoners had said when questioned. Some smart work had been done, there was no doubt about that—but something was worrying the Inspector.
Mr. Goon saw it as soon as he got into the office. He had hoped and expected to find his superior officer full of smiles and praise. But no—the Inspector looked rather solemn, and a bit worried. Why?
"Well, Goon," said the Inspector, "some good work appears to have been done on this case. But it's a pity about the pearls, isn't it? "
Mr. Goon gaped. "The pearls, sir? What about them? We've got them, sir—took them off one of the gang."
"Ah, but you see—they are not the stolen pearls," said the Inspector gently. "No, Goon—they are just a cheap necklace the man was going to give his girl! The real pearls have vanished!"
The Mystery is not yet Ended.
Mr. Goon's mouth opened and shut like a goldfish. He simply couldn't believe his ears.
"But, sir—we got the thieves red-handed. And the one that escaped was only the one on guard in the garden, sir. He hadn't anything to do with the thieving. It was the three upstairs who did that—and we've got them."
"Yes, you've got them, and that was a very good bit of work, as I said," said the Inspector. "But I'm afraid, Goon, that one of the upstairs thieves, when he knew the game was up, simply threw the pearls out of the window to the man below. He must have pocketed them, and then, when he was arrested, struggled so violently that he managed to escape—with the pearls. Pity, isn't it?"
Mr. Goon was most dismayed. True, they had got three of the gang—but the pearls were gone. He had waited to catch the men red-handed—and actually let them take the pearls, because he felt so certain he could get them back, when the men were arrested—and now, after all, the robbery had been successful. One of the gang had got them, and would no doubt get rid of them in double quick time.