“What has he to say?” murmured the Assistant Commissioner, absently turning over the pages of the notebook.  “Ah, yes.  ’Claims to be a citizen of the United States but has produced no papers.  Engaged by Sir Lucien Pyne in San Francisco.  Professes to have no evidence to offer.  Admitted Mrs. Monte Irvin to Sir Lucien’s flat on night of murder.  Sir Lucien and Mrs. Irvin went out together shortly afterwards, and Sir Lucien ordered him (Mareno) to go for the car to garage in South Audley Street and drive to club, where Sir Lucien proposed to dine.  Mareno claims to have followed instructions.  After waiting near club for an hour, learned from hall porter that Sir Lucien had not been there that evening.  Drove car back to garage and returned to Albemarle Street shortly after eight o’clock.’  H’m.  Is this confirmed in any way?”

Kerry’s teeth snapped together viciously.

“Up to a point it is, sir.  The club porter remembers Mareno inquiring about Sir Lucien, and the people at the garage testify that he took out the car and returned it as stated.”

“No one has come forward who actually saw him waiting outside the club?”

“No one.  But unfortunately it was a dark, misty night, and cars waiting for club members stand in a narrow side turning.  Mareno is a surly brute, and he might have waited an hour without speaking to a soul.  Unless another chauffeur happened to notice and recognize the car nobody would be any wiser.”

The Assistant Commissioner sighed, glancing up for the first time.

“You don’t think he waited outside the club at all?” he said.

“I don’t, sir!” rapped Kerry.

The Assistant Commissioner rested his head upon his hand again.

“It doesn’t seem to be germane to your case, Chief Inspector, in any event.  There is no question of an alibi.  Sir Lucien’s wrist-watch was broken at seven-fifteen—­evidently at the time of his death; and this man Mareno does not claim to have left the flat until after that hour.”

“I know it, sir,” said Kerry.  “He took out the car at half-past seven.  What I want to know is where he went to!”

The Assistant Commissioner glanced rapidly into the speaker’s fierce eyes.

“From what you have gathered respecting the appearance of Kazmah, does it seem possible that Mareno may be Kazmah?”

“It does not, sir.  Kazmah has been described to me, at first hand and at second hand.  All descriptions tally in one respect:  Kazmah has remarkably large eyes.  In Miss Halley’s evidence you will note that she refers to them as ‘larger than any human eyes I have ever seen.’  Now, Mareno has eyes like a pig!”

“Then I take it you are charging him as accessory?”

“Exactly, sir.  Somebody got Kazmah and Mrs. Irvin away, and it can only have been Mareno.  Sir Lucien had no other resident servant; he was a man who lived almost entirely at restaurants and clubs.  Again, somebody cleaned up his papers, and it was somebody who knew where to look for them.”