'And do you?'

'No.'

'Did you know he was a metallurgist and an expert on Norway?'

'Yes. I knew that.'

'But you didn't know whether he might have made some important discovery in Norway during the last few months?'

Again that momentary hesitation. 'No.'

A silence followed. Then Dick suddenly said, 'Bill — I suggest we make for Norway when we leave the Thames Tommorow.' I glanced at him. He must have guessed what was in my mind, for he said quickly, 'I mean, I'm getting curious about this man Farnell.'

So was I. I glanced at the girl. Her features were on the long side with straight nose and determined chin. It was a strong face. She met my gaze in a quick movement of the eyes and then looked away again. I picked up the envelope and shook the contents out on to the bar. There was a little gasp from the girl. Photographs of George Farnell stared up at me from the bar top. I shuffled quickly through them. There was one of him in an open-necked khaki shirt, looking just as I'd known him out in Rhodesia. There were full-length pictures of him looking very awkward in a business suit, copies of passport photographs and one of him at work with a divining rod. I turned to the passport photographs. They showed a strangely tense face — long, almost aesthetic features, short, clipped moustache, thin, dark hair, rather prominent ears and eyes that glinted behind horn-rimmed glasses. The date on the back — 10 Jan., 1936. Then there were police records, full-face and side-face studies of him after his conviction, and pictures of his fingerprints. Sir Clinton had certainly been thorough.

Clipped to the photographs was a note. These may be of use. I have telephoned two people who answered my Times advertisement. They both want to go with you. The girl could be helpful if you gained her confidence. A Norwegian has been in touch with me this morning. He knew Farnell in Norway during the war. I told him to see you about six this evening. Also I have seen Jorgensen again. I said I must have detailed information before presenting his proposals to my board. He talked of nickel — and uranium! He gave me twenty-four hours to make up my mind. He flies to America on Saturday. Please keep me informed of all developments. It was signed — Clinton Mann.

I passed the note across to Dick and finished my beer. Then I swept the pictures of Farnell back into the envelope and stuffed it in the pocket of my jacket. 'See you later,' I told Dick. 'And keep Miss Somers with you.' I started to move for the door and then stopped. 'Miss Somers,' I said, 'were you by any chance at Farnell's trial?'