"Mr. Nichols?" he asked, extending his hand. "Inspector Harris telephoned that you would take the case."
"I only promised to make an inspection," the detective replied. "Tell me exactly what happened please."
"I'll call my wife," said Mr. Kirmenbach. "She'll be able to give you a better account than I."
While Penny and her father were waiting they glanced quickly about the living room. It was lavishly furnished and in excellent taste.
Mrs. Kirmenbach, a gray haired lady, only a few years younger than her husband, smiled graciously as she bowed to Penny and the detective.
"I do hope that you'll be able to recover my necklace for me," she said to Mr. Nichols. "The other things do not matter, but the diamonds were left me by my father years ago. I prized them for sentimental reasons as well as their actual value."
"When did you discover your loss?" questioned the detective.
"Early this morning Ellen, our maid, noticed that the window of the study had been pried open. She called me at once. The wall safe had been forced and my box of jewels was missing. My husband sent for the police at once."
"And they learned nothing," Mr. Kirmenbach said in a tone of disgust. "There were no finger-marks, no evidence of any kind."
"How many servants do you employ?" asked the detective.