"Didn't I tell you, Mr. Kesselbach, that we should find something? . . . Hullo! Have you done it? . . . Well? . . . A letter? Victory! All the diamonds in the Cape and old man Kesselbach's secret into the bargain!"
He took down the second receiver, carefully put the two discs to his ears and continued:
"Read it to me, Marco, read it to me slowly. . . . The envelope first. . . . Good. . . . Now, repeat." He himself repeated, "'Copy of the letter contained in the black morocco case.' And next? Tear the envelope, Marco. . . . Have I your permission, Mr. Kesselbach? It's not very good form, but, however . . . Go on, Marco, Mr. Kesselbach gives you leave. . . . Done it? . . . Well, then, read it out."
He listened and, with a chuckle:
"The deuce! That's not quite as clear as a pikestaff! Listen. I'll repeat: a plain sheet of paper folded in four, the folds apparently quite fresh. . . . Good. . . . At the top of the page, on the right, these words: 'Five feet nine, left little finger cut.' And so on. . . . Yes, that's the description of Master Pierre Leduc. In Kesselbach's handwriting, I suppose? . . . Good. . . . And, in the middle of the page, this word in printed capitals: 'APOON.' Marco, my lad, leave the paper as it is and don't touch the box or the diamonds. I shall have done with our friend here in ten minutes and I shall be with you in twenty. . . . Oh, by the way, did you send back the motor for me? Capital! So long!"
He replaced the instrument, went into the lobby and into the bedroom, made sure that the secretary and the manservant had not unloosed their bonds and, on the other hand, that they were in no danger of being choked by their gags. Then he returned to his chief prisoner.
He wore a determined and relentless look:
"We've finished joking, Kesselbach. If you don't speak, it will be the worse for you. Have you made up your mind?"
"What about?"
"No nonsense, please. Tell me what you know."