“I saw the sergeant when he called,” Mr. Fogden answered, a trifle shortly. “That was yesterday, and I gave him all the information at my disposal.”
“So he told me, sir.” French’s manner was very suave. “My troubling you on the same business, therefore, requires a little explanation. I must ask you, however, to consider what I have to tell you confidential. That crate which you sent to Swansea was duly called for. It eventually reached Burry Port. There it was opened—by the police. And do you know what was found in it?”
Mr. Fogden stared at the other with a rapidly growing interest.
“Good Heavens!” he cried. “You surely don’t mean to say that it contained that body that we have been reading so much about in the papers recently?”
French nodded.
“That’s it, Mr. Fogden. So you will see now that it’s not idle curiosity which brings me here. The matter is so serious that I must go into it personally. I shall have to investigate the entire history of that crate.”
“By Jove! I should think so. You don’t imagine, I take it, that the body was in it when it left the works?”
“I don’t, but of course I can’t be sure. I must investigate all the possibilities.”
“That is reasonable.” Mr. Fogden paused, then continued: “Now tell me what you want me to do and I will carry out your wishes as well as I can. I have already explained to the sergeant that the crate contained a Veda Number Three duplicator, a special product of the firm’s, and that it was ordered by this Mr. Stephenson in a letter written from the Euston Hotel. I can turn up the letter for you.”
“Thank you, I should like to see the letter, but as a matter of fact I should like a good deal more. I am afraid I must follow the whole transaction right through and interview everyone who dealt with it.”