"Hardly, sir, but of course we can't say definitely yet. It isn't likely a burglar would come when Mr. Fletcher was still up, not to mention the rest of the household."
"No. Only the safe is behind that picture -just in case you didn't know."
"Yes, sir, so the butler informed me. We've been over it for finger-prints, and as soon as we can get Mr. Fletcher's lawyer down we'll have it opened. Yes, Hepworth? Found anything?"
The last words were addressed to a constable who had stepped into the room through the window.
"Not much, Sergeant, but I'd like you to have a look at one thing."
The Sergeant went at once; Neville uncoiled himself, got up, and wandered out of the room in his wake. "Don't mind me coming, do you?" he murmured, as the Sergeant turned his head.
"I don't see as there's any objection, sir. The fact is, a man was seen sneaking out by the side gate just after 10 p.m., and unless I'm mistaken he's the chap we're after."
"A - a fat man?" suggested Neville, blinking.
"Ah, that would be too easy, wouldn't it, sir?" said the Sergeant indulgently. "No, just an ordinary looking chap in a soft hat. Well, Hepworth, what is it?"
The constable had led the way to the back of a flowering currant bush, which was planted in a bed close to the house. He directed the beam of his torch on to the ground. In the soft earth were the deep imprints of a pair of high-heeled shoes.