She took them from his hand and scrutinized them carefully.
“Yes, these are the real Leonardos,” she affirmed, without hesitation. “That’s all right.”
“Quite all right,” admitted Sir Clinton, with a wry smile, “except for one point: Why were the replicas stolen and the real things left untouched?”
“That certainly seems to need explaining,” Una admitted. “Can you throw any light on it, Foxy? You’re the only one of us who was near the case.”
There was no hint of accusation in her tone; but Foxy seemed to read an insinuation into her remark.
“I haven’t got the replicas, if that’s what you mean, Una,” he protested angrily. “I just took what was left—and it turns out to be the real things. Whoever was ahead of me took the duds.”
Cecil considered the point, and then appealed to Sir Clinton.
“Doesn’t that seem to show that an outsider’s been at work—some one who knew a certain amount about the collection, but not quite enough? An outsider wouldn’t know we had the replicas in the case alongside the real things. He’d just grab three medallions and think he’d got away with it.”
Sir Clinton shook his head.
“Your hypothetical outsider, Cecil, must have had a preliminary look at the case before the lights went out—just to make sure of getting to the right spot in the dark. Therefore he must have seen the six medallions there; and he’d have taken the lot instead of only three, when he had his chance.”