"I saw him to-day, and he declares that if the lost money is not found and restored there will be trouble from the society."
"He's a fool also. Does he think this is Peru, to assassinate innocent people with impunity? We have had enough of mysterious murders and enigmatic Blue Mummies. Well, good night, Mr. Darrel. I'll see Vass to-morrow and find out what he knows."
Torry went off briskly, confident that he would succeed easier with Vass than he had with Donna Maria. The secretary was a weak-minded man, the Spanish lady a strong-minded woman; so if the pair were confederates, as the detective suspected them to be, he determined to learn the secret of their partnership by examining the most easily terrified of the two. This was Vass, who was an effeminate, hysterical creature, hardly worthy to be called a man. He, if anyone, could be coerced into revealing the truth of the conspiracy.
Next day, shortly before twelve o'clock, Torry called at the Fleet-street bank, and requested an interview with Vass. The secretary appeared unwilling to grant one, but as he had no option in the face of the detective's authority, he was reluctantly compelled to accede to the request, and conducted his unwelcome visitor, into the private room of Mr. Grent. Torry, who had a retentive memory, recognised this famous apartment.
"Ah," said he playfully, "yonder is the private safe. What a pity it cannot speak and tell us the truth!"
"The truth?" repeated Vass unsteadily.
"About the stolen notes. Don't look so pale, sir; I know you did not steal them. But I wish I knew who did. The numbers have not been traced by any of your people?"
Vass shook his head. "No. We have made all inquiries, but we can learn nothing. Did you come to speak about the notes!"
"Not exactly. I came to ask you what you were doing in Piccadilly on the day Mr. Grent was murdered."
"He was murdered on Sunday. I was not in the West End on that day."