“The motive was, of course, robbery,” said the Inspector, as several others followed Bayliss into the library, “for though everything else seems intact, a large bundle of securities, which Mr. Dunbar knows were in Mr. Hemmingway’s safe last Friday, are now gone.”
“Oh, those,” said George Fiske; “I didn’t know you looked on those as missing. I have them at my own rooms.”
“You have?” said the surprised Inspector. “Why did you not state that fact when interviewed by Mr. Spearman?”
“Because,” said the young man frankly, “I didn’t consider that the time or place to discuss Mr. Hemmingway’s finances. I was his confidential secretary, and though required to render an account at any time, I am careful not to do so prematurely. The bonds in question are at my home because Mr. Hemmingway gave them to me last Saturday to keep for him temporarily. Here is a list of them.”
Fiske took a card of figures from his pocket-book and handed it to the Inspector, who glanced at it with satisfaction and approval.
“You did quite right, Mr. Fiske,” he said, “and I’m glad the securities are safe. But then what in your opinion could have been the motive for the deed of last night?”
Fiske made no reply, but the expression on his face seemed to imply, against his will, that he could say something pertinent if he chose.
“Might it not be, Harris,” whispered Bayliss, “that that young man overestimates the confidentialness of his secretaryship at this crisis?”
“H’m,” said Harris.
Meanwhile the Inspector was rapidly looking over a sheaf of opened letters, each of which bore at its top the rubber-stamped date of receipt.