The cracksman studied this room as MacKeenon, at a nod from Sir Richard, rattled out the handcuff
key and turned the bolt in the snap-lock. There were the same three tin boxes upon the long mahogany table. There was also evidence everywhere that clerks had been copying the cipher. Five American typewriters stood on tables at one end of the room. The lights in the overhead cluster were brilliant. The air tasted of pipe-smoke.
Saidee Isaacs stood by the door which led to the hallway. The little old man crept to her side and waited for Sir Richard to speak. Fay leaned against the corner of the long table and rubbed his wrist.
“You double-crossed me!� he exclaimed bitterly. “You said I could go to Holland scot-free, and you’ve had every Scotch inspector in the Yard after me. How do you expect to get results if you do that?�
“Yes—how does he expect it?â€� said Saidee Isaacs.
Sir Richard stared from the girl to Fay. He brought his lower lip over his upper one. His eyes were curtained by his furrowed brows. His right-hand fingers toyed with a watch-charm which hung from a heavy gold chain.
Turning suddenly, he moved a chair behind the table, sat down, leaned back, thrust his thumbs in the arm-holes of his silk-lined vest and nodded toward the door.
MacKeenon closed the door, locked it and came back to Fay’s side. He passed the key toward Sir Richard, who motioned for him to lay it on the table.
“Now that everybody has had their say,� said the chief, with an icy glitter in his eyes. “Now that they have,� he continued, “I suppose it’s my turn.�
“Fay, what did you do with the package you got from the safe?�