At the end of that week Mr. Fortune was summoned to Scotland Yard. He found the chief of the Criminal Investigation Department in conference with Eddis, a man of law from the Home Office.
“Hallo! Life is real, life is earnest, isn’t it, Lomas?” he smiled.
The Hon. Sidney Lomas put up an eyeglass and scowled at him. “You know, you’re not a man of science, Fortune. You’re an agitator. You ought to be bound over to keep the peace.”
“I should call him a departmental nuisance,” said Eddis gloomily.
“In returnin’ thanks (one of your larger cigars would do me no harm, Lomas) I would only ask, where does it hurt you?”
“The Wilton case was a very satisfactory case till you meddled,” said Eddis. “Also it was a chose jugée.”
“And now it’s unjudged? How good for you!” Reggie chuckled. “How stimulating!”
“Now,” said Lomas severely, “it’s insane. It’s a nightmare.”
“Yes. Yes, I dare say that’s what Dr. Wilton thinks,” said Reggie gravely. “Well, how far have you got?”
“You were right about the tobacco, confound you. And the key. Both of German birth. And will you kindly tell me what that means?”