“I’m picking my words with some care,” Sir Clinton assured him. “I mean ‘if.’ The point’s still in doubt; but I want to play the game with you and take no improper advantage.”
The imperturbable face of the secretary showed neither relief nor depression.
“It’s very good of you,” he said in a colourless voice. Sir Clinton considered for a moment. Stenness moved over to a chair and sat down.
“I think I can put my cards on the table in your case, Stenness,” the Chief Constable said at length. “Nothing I’m going to tell you will be news to you; and there seems no reason why I shouldn’t say it.”
Stenness looked up indifferently. His mind seemed to be occupied with something quite apart from the affair in hand.
“Go on,” he said, apathetically.
“Here are the facts, then,” Sir Clinton began. “You were employed here as Roger Shandon’s secretary. In that capacity, you seem to have had access to his cheque-books. It’s not a usual thing; but I have sound reasons for supposing that it was so in your case.”
Stenness nodded his assent.
“I don’t deny that,” he admitted.
“You have the key of the safe, haven’t you? Would you mind seeing if you can find the cheque-book that Roger Shandon used last?”