“Break it down,” somebody ordered.
But that wasn’t necessary. Vanning put a painful smile on his face and turned the key. Counsel Hatton came in, accompanied by bulky policemen. “We’ve got MacIlson,” he said.
“Oh? Why?”
For answer Hatton jerked his hand. The officers began to search the room, Vanning shrugged.
“You’ve jumped the gun,” he said. “Breaking and entering—”
“We’ve got a warrant.”
“Charge?”
“The bonds, of course.” Hatton’s voice was weary. “I don’t know where you’ve hid that suitcase, but we’ll find it.”
“What suitcase?” Vanning wanted to know.
“The one MacIlson had when he came in. The one he didn’t have when he went out.”