"But——" began Mr. Llewellyn John, when suddenly he stopped short.
Malcolm Sage had walked over to where his overcoat lay, and was deliberately getting into it.
"You're not going, Mr. Sage?" Sir Lyster's granite-like control seemed momentarily to forsake him. "What do you advise us to do?"
"Get some sleep," was the quiet reply.
"But aren't you going to search for——?" He paused as Malcolm Sage turned and looked full at him.
"A search would involve the very publicity you are anxious to avoid," was the reply.
"But——" began Mr. Llewellyn John, when Malcolm Sage interrupted him.
"The only effective search would be to surround the house with police, and allow each occupant to pass through the cordon after having been stripped. The house would then have to be gone through; carpets and boards pulled up; mattresses ripped open; chairs——"
"I agree with Mr. Sage," said Sir Lyster, looking across at the
Prime Minister coldly.
"Had I been a magazine detective I should have known exactly where to find the missing document," said Malcolm Sage. "As I am not"—he turned to Sir Lyster—"it will be necessary for you to leave a note for your butler telling him that you have dropped somewhere about the house the key of this safe, and instructing him to have a thorough search made for it. You might casually mention the loss at breakfast, and refer to an important document inside the safe which you must have on Monday morning. Perhaps the Prime Minister will suggest telephoning to town for a man to come down to force the safe should the key not be found."