“That is the right spirit,” commented Inspector Chippenfield approvingly.  “Of course we’ll tell him we’re willing to help him all we can, and of course hell tell us we can depend on his help.  But we know what his help will amount to.  He’ll keep back from us anything he finds out, and we’ll do the same for him.  But the point is, Rolfe, that you and I have to put all our brains into this and help one another.  I’m not the man to despise help from a subordinate.  If you have any ideas about this case, Rolfe, do not be afraid to speak out, I’ll give them sympathetic consideration.”

“I know you will,” said Rolfe, who was by no means sure of the fact.  “You can count on me.”

“As you know, Rolfe, there have been cases in which men from the Yard haven’t worked together as amicably as they ought to have done.  It used to be said when I was one of the plain-clothes men that the man in charge got all the credit and the men under him did all the work.  But as an inspector I can tell you that is very rarely the case.  In my reports I believe in giving my junior credit for all he has done, and generally a bit more.  It may be foolish of me, but that is my way.  I never miss a chance of putting in a good word for the man under me.”

“It would be better if they were all like that,” said Rolfe.

“Well, it’s a bargain, Rolfe,” said Inspector Chippenfield.  “You do your best on this job and you won’t lose by it.  I’ll see to that.  But in the meantime we don’t want to put Crewe on the scent.  Let us see how much we’ll tell him and how much we won’t.”

“He’ll want to see the letter sent to the Yard about the murder,” said Rolfe.  “The Daily Recorder published a facsimile of it this morning.”

“Yes, I knew about that.  Well, he can have it.  But don’t say anything to him about that lace you found in the dead man’s hand—­or at any rate not until you find out more about it.  The glove he can have since it is pretty obvious that it belonged to Sir Horace.  We’ll spin Crewe a yarn that we are depending on it as a clue.”

Crewe arrived during the afternoon to inspect the house and the room in which the crime had been committed.  There was every appearance of cordiality in the way in which he greeted the police officials.

“Delighted to see you, Inspector,” he said.  “Who is working this case with you?  Rolfe?  Don’t think we have met before, Rolfe, have we?”

Rolfe politely murmured something about not having had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Crewe, but of always having wanted to meet him, because of his fame.

“Very good of you,” replied Crewe.  “This is a very sad business.  I understand there are some attractive points of mystery in the crime.  I hope you haven’t unravelled it yet before I have got a start.  You fellows are so quick.”

“Slow and sure is our motto,” said Inspector Chippenfield, feeling certain that a sneer and not a compliment had been intended.  “There is nothing to be gained in arresting the wrong man.”