Charles and Peter inspected it. It was about the size of a farthing, a cheap-looking button with a pattern stamped on it. "Looks like an ordinary glove-button," Peter said.
Just so, sir. Made in France, too, but that doesn't tell us much. But I went through all the deceased's belongings, and there wasn't a single pair of gloves in the house, let alone one lacking a button. It doesn't prove anything, but it's something to go on." He put it back into the envelope.
"You're not producing that at the inquest, are you?" Charles asked.
"Oh no, sir," the inspector replied, smiling. "The police aren't as thick-headed as that, you know. Our course is to ask for an adjournment. You've never seen anyone wearing gloves with this type of button, I suppose?" They shook their heads. "No, well, I didn't expect you would have, but there was just a chance of it." He locked it away again. "You won't mention that to anyone, if you please, sir."
"Certainly not." Charles looked round as the door opened. A man came in with a typewritten document, which he laid before the inspector.
"That's right, Jenkins," the inspector said. "That'll be all. Now, sir, would you please read through what you said last night, and see that we've got it down right? And if you'd just tell me your part of the story, Mr. Fortescue, I'll take it down, and we shall have everything shipshape."
Peter briefly recounted his share in the night's happenings. When he had done Charles put down the typewritten sheets. "Yes, that's right," he said. "Want me to sign it?" He drew out his fountain pen, and scrawled his name at the bottom of the statement. As he screwed the cap on again, he said: "I don't think, inspector, that when we came to see you the other day you set much store by our tale, but has it occurred to you just where all this points?"
"Yes, sir, it has," the inspector replied at once. "And you'll pardon me, but I did set considerable store by what you told me. If I hadn't I wouldn't have been quite so open with you this morning. But you see, what you told me wasn't the first thing I'd heard about the Priory Monk. I've been remarkably interested in him for some time."
"No good asking you what your previous information was, I suppose?" Charles asked.
"No, Sir, I'm afraid it's not. But you can be quite sure I'm not taking the matter lightly. I know what you think. You think that it was the Monk who murdered Duval. Well, it's not for me to give my opinion, lacking any proof, but I would like you, if you will, sir, to try and remember just what Duval said to you about the Monk."