“If that is so it looks as if Roper was changing them systematically.”
“Possibly. In that case we may expect more notes to come in. That’ll do, French. Go and see Willis and start right in.”
Inspector Willis was seated at the desk in his room, apparently trying to reduce to some sort of order the chaotic heap of papers which covered it.
“Hullo, French! Come in and take a pew,” he greeted his visitor. “I don’t know any one I’d be better pleased to see. If you hadn’t turned up within another ten minutes I was going out about those blessed notes, but now I shall be able to get down to Colchester on the next train. I’m on that burglary at Brodrick’s, the jewellers. You heard about it?”
“The Chief mentioned it, but I have heard no details. Interesting case?”
“Nothing out of the way. The place was broken into from a lane at the back and the safe cut with a oxyacetylene jet. They got about six thousand pounds’ worth. It happened that Brodrick had just sent a lot of stuff to town, else they’d have cleared twice that.”
“Any line on the men?”
“It was Hot Alf and the Mummer, I believe. It was their style, and Alf was seen in the town two days before. But I’ve not got anything definite yet. There’s a fearful muck of stuff about it: look at all this.” He indicated the litter on the table.
“No fingerprints?”
“Nope. But I’ll get them through the fences. I’ve only to sit tight and they’ll give themselves away. But what about your do? I’ve got it finished, thank the Lord! There it is.” He pointed to a little heap of papers apart from the others. “There’s more in it, the Chief hinted, than stolen notes, but he didn’t say what it was.”