"You know of no way by which anyone could have got into the library and then out again, other than through the door or the window?"
Malcolm Sage had relinquished the salt-spoon and was now meditatively twirling a wineglass by its stem between his thumb and first finger.
"There is no other way, sir."
"Who has access to the library in the ordinary way? Tell me the names of everybody who is likely to go in at any time."
"Outside Mr. Challoner and Mr. Dane, there is myself, Mrs. Trennett, the housekeeper, and Meston, the housemaid."
"No one else?"
"No one, sir, except, of course, the guests who might be staying in the house."
"I shall want the finger-prints of all those you have named,
including yours, Sir James." Malcolm Sage looked across at Sir James
Walton. "I can then identify those of any stranger that I may find."
Sir James nodded.
"It would be quite easy for Mr. Challoner to let anyone in through the French-windows?" enquired Malcolm Sage, turning once more to Peters.
"Quite, sir."