on the opposite side of the street came across and volunteered information.
He had seen another car drive up and a gentleman had alighted. He had opened the door with a key and gone in. There was nothing suspicious about him. He was "quite a gentleman, and was in evening-dress." The constable thought it was one of the partners of Rosenblaum in convivial and resplendent garb. He had been in the house ten minutes then had come out again, locking the door behind him, and had driven off just before Beale's car had arrived.
It was not until half an hour later that an agitated little man brought by the police from Highgate admitted the two men.
There was no need to make a long search. The moment the light was switched on in the shop Beale made his discovery. On the broad counter lay a sheet of paper and a little heap of silver coins. He swept the money aside and read:
"For the redemption of one silver hunter, 10s. 6d."
It was signed in the characteristic handwriting that Beale knew so well "Van Heerden, M.D."
The two men looked at one another.
"What do you make of that?" asked McNorton.
Beale carried the paper to the light and examined it, and McNorton went on:
"He's a pretty cool fellow. I suppose he had the money and the message all ready for our benefit."
Beale shook his head.
"On the contrary," he said, "this was done on the spur of the moment. A piece of bravado which occurred to him when he had the watch. Look at this paper. You can imagine him searching his pocket for a piece of waste paper and taking the first that came to his hand. It is written in ink with the pawnbroker's own pen. The ink-well is open," he lifted up the pen, "the nib is still wet," he said.
McNorton took the paper from his hands.
It was a bill from a corn-chandler's at Horsham, the type of bill that was sent in days of war economy which
