Armadale turned the case round in his hand. At the upper part of one end the leather had been cut away, disclosing a small ebonite disc rather more than an inch in diameter and pierced with a pattern of tiny holes. At the opposite end of the case there were two small holes side by side and a larger one above; and examination showed brass sockets inside which seemed meant for the reception of plugs.
“You’d better get his keys, Inspector. Probably the key of this thing will be on the ring.”
With his curiosity raised to an acute pitch, Armadale went off in search of the key-ring; and was soon back again with it in his hand.
“Now we’ll see what it is,” he said, as he turned the key in the case’s lock and pressed the opening spring.
The lifting of the lid disclosed a wooden casing fitted with a couple of hinged doors, an open recess in which were two levers, and a hinged metal plate, on which was an inscription. Armadale read it aloud uncomprehendingly:
“ ‘Marconi Otophone. Inst. No. S/O 1164.’ What the deuce is this?”
Sir Clinton put out his hand and lifted the hinged metal plate, disclosing below two wireless valves in their sockets.
“Some wireless gadget,” the Inspector ejaculated. “Now what could he possibly have wanted with a thing like that?”
Sir Clinton examined the instrument with interest, then he closed the case.
“We’ll take this along with us, Inspector.”