“You ought to read Edgar Allan Poe, Inspector. ‘Human ingenuity cannot concoct a cipher which human ingenuity cannot resolve,’ was a dictum of his. If I’m not mistaken about that safe, I think I could guarantee to open it in less than ten minutes. The resources of science, and all that, you know. But I think it would be better to wait a while and see if Mr. Chacewater turns up to open it for us himself.”
“But perhaps Mr. Chacewater’s body is inside it now,” the Inspector suggested. “There may have been a double murder, for all we know.”
“In that case, we shall find him when we open it,” Sir Clinton assured him lightly. “If he’s inside, he’ll hardly be likely to shift his quarters.”
CHAPTER X.
The Shot in the Clearing
When Sir Clinton reached his office on the morning after the murder at Ravensthorpe, he found Inspector Armadale awaiting him with a number of exhibits.
“I’ve brought everything that seemed worth while,” Armadale explained. “I thought you might care to look at some of the things again, although you’ve seen them already.”
“That’s very good of you, Inspector. I should like to see some of them, as a matter of fact. Now suppose we begin with the finger-prints. They might suggest a few fresh ideas.”
“They seem to suggest more notions than I have room for in my head,” the Inspector confessed ruefully. “It’s a most tangled case, to my mind.”
“Then let’s start with the finger-prints,” the Chief Constable proposed. “At least they’ll settle some points, I hope.”
Armadale unwrapped a large brown-paper parcel.