The greengrocer pointed to a shelf in a corner above the bundle of sacking.
"There!" he answered. "I wanted some small boxes to take down to Covent Garden, and in turning some of these over I came across a little parcel, wrapped in paper—slipped under a box that was turned top downwards on the shelf, you understand? So of course I opened it, and there was the watch and chain and ring."
"Just folded in the papers that you handed to the police?" suggested Viner.
"Well, there was more paper about 'em than what I gave to Inspector Drillford," said the greengrocer. "A well-wrapped-up bit of parcel it was—there's the rest of the paper there, where I threw it down."
He pointed to some loose sheets of paper which lay on the sacking, and Viner went forward, picked them up, looked quickly at them, and put them in his pocket.
"I suppose you never heard anybody about, that night?" he asked turning to the greengrocer.
"Not I!" the man replied. "I sleep too sound to hear aught of that sort. There's nothing in here that's of any value. No—a dozen folk could come into this yard at night and we shouldn't hear 'em—we sleep at the front of the house."
Viner slipped some silver into the greengrocer's hand and led Felpham away. And when they reached a quieter part of the district, he pulled out the papers which he had picked out of the corner in the shed and held them in front of his companion's eyes.
