"Why not? You will remain in London, of course. Your father's papers may throw some light on the mystery."
"I have interviewed lawyers, and I have already gone through some of his private papers. I do not think any light will come that way. Do you want to look at anything else in the house?"
"I think not," I said.
"My specialty is finger prints," said Quarles, "nothing else. In this case my specialty has proved useless." When we left the house Quarles turned toward Connaught Road.
"Is it your real opinion that the only thing to do is to wait?" I asked.
"Let's go and see if we can find any more finger prints," he chuckled.
The garage was shut. Cut into the big gates was a small door.
"Not a difficult lock," said Quarles. "I may have a key that will fit it.
We must get in somehow."
"There is a door into the garage from the garden. We could have gone that way."
"And advertised ourselves to the servants. I wanted to avoid that."