Again Mr. Wynne's self-possession forsook him, and he came to his feet, evidently with the intention of interrupting that conversation. He started forward, with gritting teeth, and simultaneously Chief Arkwright, Detective-Sergeant Connelly and Mr. Czenki laid restraining hands upon him. Something in the expert's grip on his wrist caused him to stop and cease a futile struggle; then came a singular expression of resignation about the mouth and he sat down again.
"Hello! This Mr. Latham! . . . . This is Detective Birnes. . . . I've been able to locate some diamonds, but it's necessary to know something of the quantity of those you mentioned. You remember Mr. Schultze said something about . . . . Yes. . . . Yes. . . . Oh, there were? . . Unexpected developments, yes. . . . I'll call and see you to-night about eight. . . . Yes. . . . Good-by!"
Mr. Birnes reentered the room, his face aglow with triumph. Mr. Wynne glanced almost hopelessly at Mr. Czenki, then turned again to the detective.
"I should say there were more than sixty thousand dollars' worth of them," Mr. Birnes blurted. "There were at least a million dollars' worth. Mr. Schultze intimated as much to me; now Mr. Latham confirms it."
Chief Arkwright turned and glared scowlingly upon the diamond expert. The beady black eyes were alight with some emotion which he failed to read.
"Where are they, Czenki?" demanded the chief harshly.
"I have nothing to say," replied Mr. Czenki softly.
"So your disappearance Friday night, and your absence all day yesterday did have to do with this old man's death?" said the chief, directly accusing him.
"I have nothing to say," murmured Mr. Czenki.
"That settles it, gentlemen," declared the chief with an air of finality. "Czenki, I charge you with the murder of Mr. Kellner here. Anything you may say will be used against you. Come along, now; don't make any trouble."