"Warwick!" he cried. "Well, now that's one ahead of me. I've felt convinced from the first, as you know, that he had a good bit to do with this affair; but I wasn't sure that he was connected with the Jap. And so he is back, eh?" with a knowing nod. "Back and crawling about in the dark, knocking people on the head."
At a word from Ashton-Kirk the driver halted the car at the corner of Berkley Street.
"And this is where Miss Corbin stood, as the policeman told you," said Fuller, looking about. "And then she went northward—northward," with much significance in his tone, "toward Okiu's place."
His employer was looking about, and said nothing in reply; so Fuller went on:
"And what we sought for was hidden in the socket of one of those candlesticks all the time, and——" here he halted and his hand slapped sharply upon his knee. "But no! By Jove, it was not, for I distinctly recall that you examined all the candlesticks very carefully on the night of the murder."
Ashton-Kirk nodded rather absently; his eyes were traveling the length of Berkley Street.
"Then," cried Fuller, "the paper was placed there since that night. The murderer, fearing to keep it in his or her possession, placed it in one of the candlesticks, knowing very well that they must have been already searched, and feeling that they would not be molested again. You said you were sure that none of those who sought the document had found it," he continued, "but it seems that in this you were mistaken. Unless," as though a fresh idea had come to him, "it should turn out that, after all, it was not the state paper which Miss Corbin took."
But Ashton-Kirk shook his head.
"I wish I could think so," said he, gravely. "If I could, I should not at this moment be classing myself as a blithering idiot."
"I hardly think I understand," said Fuller.