“Twenty pounds, Mr. Morley. Two ‘fives’ and a ‘ten.’ ”
Morley sprang to his feet and nodded excitedly. “I knew it,” he cried, “I knew it! Everything is all right!”
“Knew what?” demanded Bannister.
“Wait a minute, Mr. Inspector. Have a little patience and I will show you something that will interest you very much. Yes—yes—very much indeed.” He rubbed his palms appreciatively and went to his desk. What he had just heard had evidently made a big difference to his outlook. He pulled open a drawer on the left-hand side. He rummaged therein for a few seconds and then extracted an envelope. This done he came back to the Inspector and Godfrey.
“Look at that!” he exclaimed triumphantly. He held something towards them. It was a five-pound note. “The number, I mean,” cried the Jew. Bannister referred to his tell-tale list. “It is one of them,” cried Morley again. “Yes? Am I then right? It is one of the missing numbers? For a certainty—eh?”
“It is, Mr. Morley,” announced Bannister gravely, “and I shall be obliged with the explanation.”
“You shall have it,” replied Morley—all his racial confidence regained—“and I can assure you that I am more than pleased to remember so well to be able to give it to you. I paid those notes to Captain Willoughby—he had some successful and pleasant business with me last week. But another gentleman living in the district who does business with me was not so successful as Captain Willoughby. As a matter of fact, for some months now he’s been working a ‘system.’ A ‘system’ that has had a long run of failure, like most systems. I am sorry for him. He has lost a lot of money over it. But there—business is business. What can I do? I have to send my accounts in——” He paused and looked at Bannister slyly. “The gentleman that I’ve just mentioned—the gentleman who paid me the notes that I in turn paid to Captain Willoughby—is Mr. Ronald Branston—the dentist. He called here to see me—to settle his outstanding account. He usually pays by cheque—this last time he paid in notes. The note you are holding, Inspector, is one of them.” Jacob Morley smiled complacently.
CHAPTER XIX.
Ronald Branston’s Story
“Branston! Branston after all!” insinuated Sergeant Godfrey to the Inspector as they made their way back to the station.
“Before proceeding any further, Godfrey,” said Bannister, turning to his companion, “tell me all you know about this Mr. Ronald Branston, the dentist. We can’t get away from the hard fact that the only corroboration of Branston’s story comes from one of his own staff—that Mrs. Bertenshaw of his—the housekeeper.”