“It is so remarkable,” I answered, “that I am utterly unable to form any idea how the theft was accomplished.”
“You believe, however, that Ogle was a spy?”
“At present, yes,” I said. “And further, I have grave suspicions that he was murdered.”
“Ah, that was alleged at the inquest,” his Lordship observed. “At present the police are sparing no effort to determine the cause of his death, and to find out who manufactured the duplicate of Lord Warnham’s seal.”
“The seal I picked up from among the contents of Ogle’s pockets was not the identical one used to secure the dummy envelope,” I said quickly.
“I am fully aware of all the facts,” he answered rather coldly. “My desire is to find out something fresh. Even the police seem utterly baffled. Who is this young woman, Ella Laing, who at the inquest alleged murder?”
“The daughter of Mrs Laing, of Pont Street.”
“Do you know her intimately?”
“She is engaged to be married to me,” I replied.
“It is apparent that she was very friendly with this Ogle. Surely you can induce her to tell you something about him.”