the blazing fire of pine logs.
âA chilly evening, Inspector,â he said pleasantly. âWonât you sit down?â
French thanked him, and after apologising for the hour of his call, went on:
âMy visit, sir, is in connection with certain bank notes which I am trying to trace. Some time ago there was a robbery in the City in which a number of Bank of England notes were stolen. The owner fortunately was able to find out their numbers from his bank. When the matter was reported to us, we naturally asked the banks generally to keep a lookout for them. Nothing was heard of them until to-day, but this afternoon, just before closing time, two of them were paid into the Reading Branch of the City of London Bank. The teller, though not certain, believed that you had paid them in. You can see, therefore, the object of my call. It is to ask you if you can possibly help me to trace the thief by telling me where you received the notes. There were two, both for ten pounds, and the numbers were A/V 173258 W and N/L 386427 P.â
Colonel FitzGeorge looked interested.
âI certainly called at the bank this afternoon and lodged some money,â he answered. âIt was mostly in the form of dividend warrants, but there were a few notes. Now where did I get those? I should be able to tell you off-hand, but Iâm not at all sure that I can. Let me think, please.â
For some moments silence reigned in the luxuriously-furnished room. French, always suspicious, surreptitiously watched his new acquaintance, but he had to admit that he could discern none of the customary signs of guilt. But he reminded himself that you never knew, and determined that unless he was completely satisfied by the coming reply, he would make an investigation into Colonel FitzGeorgeâs movements on the night of the murder.
âI
believe
,â said the Colonel suddenly, âI know where I got those notes. I am not by any means certain, but I think I can tell you. Unless I am very much mistaken, it was from the manager of the Hotel Beau-Sejour in Chamonix.â
âChamonix?â French repeated in surprise. This was by no means what he had expected to hear.
âYes. I have been for the last six weeks in Switzerland and Savoy, and two days ago, on last Tuesday afternoon, to be exact, I left Chamonix. I caught the night train from Geneva, was in Paris next morning, and reached Charing Cross yesterday, Wednesday, afternoon. To-day I went through my correspondence, and after lunch took in my dividends and some spare cash to lodge in the bank.â
âAnd the two ten-pound notes, sir?â
âThe two ten-pound notes, as I say, I believe I received at the Chamonix hotel. I found I had to return home sooner than I had intended, and as I was leaving the country I wanted to change back all but a small amount of my foreign money. It was convenient to do it at the hotel, and besides, you canât always be sure of getting enough change at Calais or on the boat. I asked the manager of the Beau-Sejour to give me English money for my francs, and he did so at once.â
âWhy do you think these particular notes were handed over by him?â
âHe paid me in ten-pound notes only. He gave me five of themâI changed fifty poundsâ worth of francs altogether. It is true that I had some other English notes, and there were some at home here, but so far as I can remember, there were no tens among themâonly fives and Treasury notes.â
With this, French had to be content. Though he asked many other questions he could learn nothing further to help him. But on the pretext that the notes might have been received at some other place, he obtained a note of the Colonelâs itinerary while abroad. According to this, it appeared that on the night of Charles Gethingâs murder, the traveller had slept in the Bellevue Hotel at Kandersteg, prior to walking over the Gemmi Pass on the following day. This