Mr. Ember, the gentleman who called last night before you got home. It appears he is the person who sent us that telegram from Edgartown day before yesterday."
"Indeed? Ember is not the name with which the message was signed."
"The message was purposely left unsigned," Lanyard explained.
Stanistreet nodded approval. "I am glad to meet you, Mr. Ember," he said, offering a hand. "Be seated. I am most anxious first to express our gratitude, next to learn how you came by your information."
"You will find it an interesting story."
"No doubt of that." Stanistreet took the desk chair, opened a cigar humidor, and offered it. "I shall be even more interested, however," he said with an evanescent trace of humour, "to know who the devil you are, sir."
"That is something I am prepared to prove to your satisfaction."
"If you will be so good. … But excuse me for one moment." Stanistreet turned in his chair. "Mr. Stone?"
"Yes, sir."
"Have you finished with the safe? If so, I want my secretary to check over its contents carefully and make sure nothing else is missing."
"I'm all through with it, Colonel Stanistreet. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to mouse around and see if I can nose out anything else that's useful."
"That shall be entirely as you will. Now, Blensop"—Stanistreet nodded to the secretary—"let us make certain. …"
"Yes, sir."
