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"Good evening," said the Chief Inspector ominously. "Who are you?"

The man swallowed. His gaze had sought, found, and was now focussed upon the Roman couch. "My name is James Wake, and I am Lord Marcus Amberdale's butler."

Bluett was considering James Wake with frank interest. His expression was that of a punter studying the points of a horse, and deciding whether it shall or shall not carry his money. Firth's tawny eyes conveyed nothing other than an interrogation. Dr. Fawcett replaced his bag on the floor and his hat on top of it.

"You keep strange hours for a butler."

"It may certainly seem so, sir." The man had a punctilious accuracy of speech which the Chief Inspector found faintly irritating. "But in point of fact my return at so late an hour is, if I may so describe it, the result of an after-thought."

"Indeed! Do I take you to mean that you had not intended to come back at all?"

"I had his lordship's permission to sleep out. And if I don't intrude in any way, perhaps you will be good enough to tell me who you are, sir, and what has occurred."