He handed them to Sir Clinton, who examined them in turn before putting them on the central case.
“Only keys of suit-cases here,” the Chief Constable reported. “We haven’t come across the latch-key of his flat, if you notice.”
He counted the contents of the purse.
“Eight and sixpence and one ten-shilling note.”
The Inspector proceeded with his examination.
“Here’s something funny! He’s got a smallish pocket over his hip, just below the trouser button. That’s unusual. But it’s empty,” he added, after an eager search.
“Let me look at that,” Sir Clinton demanded.
He stooped down and inspected the pocket closely, then stood up and passed his hand across the corresponding spot on his own clothes. As he did so, Armadale noticed a peculiar expression pass across the Chief Constable’s face, as though some new idea had dawned upon him and had cleared up a difficulty. But Sir Clinton divulged nothing of what was passing in his mind.
“Make quite sure it’s empty,” he said.
Armadale turned the little pocket inside out.