Inspector Jacks hesitated.

“If you would not think it a liberty, sir,” he said, “I should be very glad indeed if you would give me a note which would insure me an interview with Sir Edward Bransome.”

“I will give it you with pleasure,” the Secretary answered, “although I imagine that he would be quite willing to see you on your own request.”

He wrote a few lines and passed them over.  Inspector Jacks saluted, and turned towards the door.

“You’ll let me know if anything turns up?” the Home Secretary said.

“You shall be informed at once, sir,” the Inspector assured him, a as he left the room.

Sir Edward Bransome was just leaving his house when Inspector Jacks entered the gate.  The latter, who knew him by sight, saluted and hesitated for a moment.

“Did you wish to speak to me?” Sir Edward asked, drawing back from the step of his electric brougham.

The Inspector held out his letter.  Sir Edward tore it open and glanced through the few lines which it contained.  Then he looked keenly for a moment at the man who stood respectfully by his side.

“So you are Inspector Jacks from Scotland Yard,” he remarked.

“At your service, sir,” the detective answered.

“You can get in with me, if you like,” Sir Edward continued, motioning toward the interior of his brougham.  “I am due in Downing Street now, but I dare say you could say what you wish to on the way there.”

“Certainly, sir,” Inspector Jacks answered.  “It will be very good of you indeed if you can spare me those few minutes.”

The brougham glided away.

“Now, Mr. Jacks,” Sir Edward said, “what can I do for you?  If you want to arrest me, I shall claim privilege.”

The Inspector smiled.

“I am in charge, sir,” he said, “of the investigations concerning the murder of Mr. Hamilton Fynes and Mr. Richard Vanderpole.  The news of the reward came to us at Scotland Yard this morning.  Its unusual amount led me to make some injuries at the Home Office.  I found that what I partly expected was true.  I found, sir, that your department has shown some interest in the apprehension of these two men.”

Sir Edward inclined his head slowly.

“Well?” he said.

“Sir Edward Bransome,” the Inspector continued, “I have a theory of my own as to these murders, and though it may take me some time to work it out, I feel myself day by day growing nearer the truth.  These were not ordinary crimes.  Any one can see that.  They were not even crimes for the purpose of robbery—­not, that is to say, for robbery in the ordinary sense of the word.  That is apparent even to those who write for the Press.  It has been apparent to us from the first.  It is beginning to dawn upon me now what the nature of the motive must be which was responsible for them.  I have in my possession a slight, a very slight clue.  The beginning of it is there, and the end.  It is the way between which is tangled.”