“An agile mind this,” thought Jimmy; “if I am not careful there will be trouble here.”
He watched the lawyer’s face, and noticed the lines suddenly disappear from the troubled face, and the placid smile returning.
“Conciliation and partial confession,” judged Jimmy, and his diagnosis was correct.
“Well, Mr. Jimmy,” said Spedding, with some show of heartiness, “since you know so much, it may be as well to tell you more. As you have so cleverly discovered, my house to a great extent is a strong-room. There are many valuable documents that I could not with any confidence leave deposited at my office. They are safer here under my eye, so to speak. The papers of the late Mr. Reale are, I confess, in this house; but—now mark me—whether the red envelope you speak of is amongst these I do not know. There is a multitude of documents in connection with the case, all of which I have had no time to go through. The hour is late, but——”
He paused irresolutely.
“——If you would care to inspect the mysteries of the basement”—he smiled benevolently, and was his old self—“I shall be happy to have your assistance in a cursory search.”
Jimmy was alert and watchful and to the point.
“Lead the way,” he said shortly, and Spedding, after a moment’s hesitation, opened the door and Jimmy followed him into the hall.
Contrary to his expectations, the lawyer led him upstairs, and through a plainly furnished bedroom to a small dressing-room that opened off. There was a conventional wardrobe against the wall, and this Spedding opened. A dozen suits hung from hooks and stretchers, and the lawyer groped amongst these for a moment. Then there was a soft click, and the back of the wardrobe swung back.
Spedding turned to his visitor with a quizzical smile.