My dreadful suspicion was confirmed. I knew who my visitor had been.
“God in heaven!” I whispered. “It was Hassan of Aleppo!”
CHAPTER VII
FIRST ATTEMPT ON THE SAFE
On the following morning I was awakened by the arrival of Bristol. I hastened to admit him.
“Your visitor of yesterday,” he began, “has wasted no time!”
“What has happened?”
He tugged irritably at his moustache. “I don’t know!” he replied. “Of course it was no surprise to find that there isn’t a Mohammedan who’ll lay his little finger on Professor Deeping’s safe! There’s no doubt in my mind that every lascar at the docks knows Hassan of Aleppo to be in England. Some other arrangement will have to be arrived at, if the thing is ever to be taken to the Antiquarian Museum. Meanwhile we stand to lose it. Last night—”
He accepted a cigarette, and lighted it carefully.
“Last night,” he resumed, “a member of P Division was on point duty outside the late Professor’s house, and two C.I.D. men were actually in the room where the safe is. Result—someone has put in at least an hour’s work on the lock, but it proved too tough a job!”
I stared at him amazedly.