“The police could not have seen any of our vans removing furniture from Cromwell Road last night,” protested the manager. “See here for yourself. Yesterday there were four removals only—Croydon to Southsea, Fitzjohn’s Avenue to Lower Norwood, South Audley Street to Ashley Gardens, and Elgin Avenue to Finchley. Here they are,” and he pointed to the page whereon the particulars were inscribed.
“The goods in question were removed by you from Cromwell Road, and stored in your depository at Chiswick.”
“I think, sir, you really must be mistaken,” replied the manager, shaking his head. “Did you see our vans there yourself?”
“No. The police did, and made inquiry.”
“With the usual result, I suppose, that they bungled, and told you the wrong name.”
“They’ve got it written down in their books.”
“Well, all I can say is, that we didn’t remove any furniture from the road you mention.”
“But it was at night.”
“We do not undertake a job at night unless we receive a guarantee from the landlord that the rent is duly paid, and ascertain that no money is owing.”
Max was now puzzled more than ever.