They passed on to the part store and across it to a line of bins labelled “Duplicators.” In the first bin were rows of leg castings. French ran his eye along them.
“There must be fifty or sixty here,” he said, slowly. “Let’s see if that is a good guess.”
On every bin was a stock card in a metal holder. French lifted down that in question. It was divided into three sets of columns, one set showing incomes, the second outgoes, and the third the existing stock. The date of each transaction was given, and for each entry the stock was adjusted.
“Not such a bad guess,” French remarked, slowly, as he scrutinised the entries. “There are just fifty-four.”
The card was large and was nearly full. French noticed that it went back for some weeks before the tragedy. He stood gazing at it in the light of his torch while a feeling of bitter disappointment grew in his mind. Then suddenly he thought he saw what he was looking for, and whipping out a lens, he examined one of the entries more closely. “Got it, by Jove! I’ve actually got it!” he thought, delightedly. His luck had held.
One of the entries had been altered. A loop had been skilfully added to a six to make it an eight. The card showed that two castings had been taken out which either had never been taken out at all or, more probably, which had been taken out and afterwards replaced.
Convinced that he had solved the last of his four test problems, French examined the cards of the other bins. In all of those referring to large parts he noticed the same peculiarity; the entries had been tampered with to show that one more duplicator had been sent out than really was the case. The cards for the small parts were unaltered and French could understand the reason. It was easier to get rid of the parts themselves than to falsify their records. The fraud was necessary only in the case of objects too big and heavy to carry away.
French was highly pleased. His discovery was not only valuable in itself, but he had reached it in the way which most appealed to his vanity—from his own imagination. He had imagined that the fraud might have been worked in this way. He had tested it and found that it had been. Pure brains! Such things were soothing to his self-respect.
He stood considering the matter. The evidence was valuable, but it was far from permanent. A hint that suspicion was aroused, and it would be gone. The criminal, if he were still about, would see to it that innocuous copies of the cards were substituted for these dangerous ones. French felt he dare not run such a risk. Nor could he let Gurney suspect his discovery, lest unwittingly the old man might put the criminal on his guard. He therefore went on:
“Now all I want is to make a sketch of each of these parts. The duplicator which went out in the crate may have been taken to pieces and I want to be able to recognise them if they’re found. I suppose I could get a sheet or two of paper in the storeman’s desk?”