“It’s a difficult code, Joel. One of the toughest. That Japanese thing they used during the War. But I’ve figured it. Listen. ‘Blake has been tapping the STC wires. This week-end is your chance. Get him.’”
“Addressed to whom?”
“Addressed, stupid! You didn’t think they’d write a code and address it, did you? If it came here at all it came by messenger, of course. But it’s unlikely it came here. Whoever received it brought it with him.”
“And if we knew who received it, it would at least settle Colonel Blake’s murder, wouldn’t it? Oh, Julian, you are clever. Where did you get it?”
“On the stairs as I came down.”
“Julian, it’s a wonder you’re alive! To think you’ve been the first to pick up a clue with all these great detectives about. And where were you all night? I waited and waited—and worried and worried— Why didn’t you come back?”
“Joel, I’m so sorry. Truly I am. But do you know what I did, dearest? I went to sleep.”
“To sleep?”
“To sleep, that’s what I said.” Julian came to his own rescue before her tone of reproach. “What’s so funny about that? I was tired. I went to your uncle’s room and he wasn’t there. So I waited. I dropped off on the lounge. He never came back as far as I know. When I woke it was all hours. I’d heard nothing. And coming out into the hall I was welcomed by Mrs. Crawford’s reveille.”
“Julian, how can you say such things. When I’m feeling so terribly, too. Do make me rest somehow, dear. My head—my eyes— No, there isn’t time for it, I know. We must take your wonderful clue to Mr. Belknap.”