Rand took the phone and named himself into it.

“I would like to talk to you privately, Colonel Rand,” the lawyer said.  “On a subject of considerable importance to our, shall I say, mutual clients.  Could you find time to drop over, sometime this evening?”

“Well, I’m very busy, at the moment, Mr. Goode,” Rand regretted.  “There have been some rather deplorable developments here, lately.  The butler, Walters, has been arrested for larceny.  It seems that since Mr. Fleming’s death, he has been systematically looting the pistol-collection.  I’m trying to get things straightened out, now.”

“Good heavens!” Goode was considerably shaken.  “When did you discover this, Colonel Rand?  And why wasn’t I notified before?  And are there many valuable items missing?”

“I discovered it as soon as I saw the collection,” Rand began answering his questions in order.  “Neither you, nor anybody else was notified, because I wanted to get evidence to justify an arrest first.  And nothing is missing; everything has been recovered,” he finished.  “That’s what I’m so busy about, now; getting my list revised, and straightening out the collection.”

“Oh, fine!” Goode was delighted.  “I hope everything was handled quietly, without any unnecessary publicity?  But this other matter; I don’t care to go into it over the phone, and it’s imperative that we discuss it privately, at once.”

“Well, suppose you come over here, Mr. Goode,” Rand suggested.  “That way, I won’t have to interrupt my work so much.  There’s nobody at home now but Mrs. Fleming, and as she’s indisposed, we’ll be quite alone.”

“Oh; very well.  I think that’s really a good idea; much better than your coming over here.  I’ll see you directly.”

Ritter was grinning as Rand hung up.  “That’s the stuff,” he approved.  “The old Hitler technique; make them come to you, and then you can pound the table and yell at them all you want to.”

“You go let him in,” Rand directed.  “Show him up here, and then take a plant on that spiral stairway out of the library, just out of sight.  I don’t think this it, but there’s no use taking chances.”  He mopped his face again.  “Damn, it’s hot in here!”

Ten minutes later, Ritter ushered in Humphrey Goode, and inquired if there would be anything further, sir?  When Rand said there wouldn’t, he went down the spiral.  Just as Rand had expected, Goode began peddling the same line as Varcek and Dunmore before him.  They all came to see him in the gunroom with a common purpose.  After easing himself into a chair, and going through some prefatory huffing and puffing, Goode came out with it.  Did Rand believe that Lane Fleming had really been murdered, and was he investigating Fleming’s death, after all?

“I have always believed that Lane Fleming was murdered,” Rand replied.  “I also believe that his murderer killed Arnold Rivers, as well.  I am investigating the Rivers murder, and the Fleming murder may be considered as a part thereof.  But what brings you around to discuss that, now?  Did you learn something, since last evening, that leads you to suspect the same thing?”