II. — IN WHICH SCOTLAND YARD SITS UP AND TAKES NOTICE

SIR BRYAN JOHNSTONE LEANED BACK in his chair and stared at the ceiling with a frown. His hands were thrust deep into his trouser pockets; his long legs were stretched out to their full extent under the big roll-top desk in front of him. From the next room came the monotonous tapping of a typewriter, and after a while Sir Bryan closed his eyes