"Because Mortimer doesn't carry fivers in his waistcoat pocket generally," said Caprice impatiently, "so he must have put that note there for some special reason. You'd better go and ask him."
"Certainly," said Naball, and arose to his feet. "I'm very much obliged to you."
"Then you don't think me guilty?" asked Kitty, with a smile.
"Upon my word, I don't know what to think," said the detective dismally. "The whole case seems mixed up. I'll tell you when I find the man who can't account for the possession of this fiver."
Kitty smiled, and then Naball took his leave, going straight from Toorak to the Bon-Bon Theatre, where he found Mortimer in his sanctum, up to the ears in business, as usual.
"Well, Naball," said the manager, looking up sharply, "what's up? Look sharp, I'm awfully busy."
"I only want to know where you got this?" asked Naball, giving him the five-pound note.
Mortimer took it up, and looked perplexed.
"How the deuce should I know; I get so many. Why do you want to know?"
"Oh, nothing. I just want to trace the note. Caprice said you gave it to her the day before yesterday."