He shook his head.  “Not a thing,” he reported.  “I found a couple of out-and-out fakes, and about ten or fifteen that had been altered in one way or another, and a lot of reblued stuff, but nothing from Fleming’s collection.  What did you find?”

Rand laughed.  “I found Rivers’s scrap-heap, and some pistols that probably contributed parts to some of the stuff you found,” he said.  “Of course, all we can say is that the stuff isn’t here; Rivers could have bought it, and stored it outside somewhere.  But even so, I’m not taking the Fleming butler too seriously as a suspect for the murder.”

“What’s this about Fleming’s butler?” a voice broke in.  “Have you been withholding information from me?”

Rand turned, to find that Farnsworth had left the press conference in front and crepe-soled up on him from behind.

“I withheld a theory, which seems to have come to nothing,” he replied.

Kavaalen told the D.A. who Rand was.  “He’s cooperating with us,” he added.  “Sergeant McKenna instructed us to give him every consideration.”

“It seems that a number of valuable pistols were stolen from the collection of the late Lane Fleming,” Rand said.  “We suspected that the butler had stolen them and sold them to Rivers; I thought it possible that he might also have killed Rivers to silence him about the transaction.”  He shrugged.  “None of the stolen items have turned up here, so there’s nothing to connect the thefts with the death of Rivers.”

“Good heavens, you certainly didn’t suspect a prominent and respected citizen like Mr. Rivers of receiving stolen goods?” Farnsworth demanded, aghast.

“Who respects him?” Rand hooted.  “Rivers was a notorious swindler; he had that reputation among arms-collectors all over the country.  He was expelled from membership in the National Rifle Association for misrepresentation and fraud.  Why, he even swindled Lane Fleming on a pair of fake pistols, a week or so before Fleming’s death.  And the very reason why your man Olsen was inclined to suspect Stephen Gresham was that he had had trouble with Rivers about a crooked deal Rivers had put over on him.  Fortunately, Mr. Gresham has since been cleared of any suspicion, but—­”

“Who says he’s been cleared?” Farnsworth snapped.  “He’s still a suspect.”

“Sergeant McKenna says so,” Corporal Kavaalen declared.  “He has been cleared.  I guess we just didn’t get around to telling you about that.”  He went on to explain about the long distance call that had furnished Stephen Gresham’s alibi.

“And Gresham was at home from nine twenty-two on,” Rand added.  “There are eight witnesses to that:  His wife and daughter; myself; Captain Jarrett, here; and his fiancee, Miss Lawrence; Philip Cabot; Adam Trehearne; Colin MacBride.”

Farnsworth looked bewildered.  “Why wasn’t I told about that?” he demanded sulkily.

“Sergeant McKenna’s been too busy, and I didn’t think of it,” Kavaalen said insolently.  “I’m not supposed to report to you, anyhow.  Why didn’t your man Olsen tell you; he was with us when we checked with the telephone company.”