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that made the boxes,” said Bob. “But, heavens, that’ll take weeks, and goodness knows where Mr. Smallbone will have got to by then.”
    â€œI might be able to get a copy of the trust accounts from the auditors,” suggested Miss Cornel. “We could at least start to check the securities. After all,” she added, with considerable logic but a curious lack of conviction, “what’s all the fuss about, we don’t know that there’s anything wrong with this trust.”
    â€œExcuse me,” said Sergeant Cockerill suddenly. “But do I understand that all you’re wanting is to open this box?”
    â€œThat’s right.”
    â€œAnd it’s important?”
    â€œWell,” said Bob, rather helplessly. “We don’t really know. Until we open the box we can’t tell whether it’s important to open it or not—if you see what I mean.”
    â€œWell, if that’s all,” said the sergeant, “I’ll have her open in half of no time.”
    â€œDon’t tell me,” said Miss Cornel in a thrilled tone of voice, “that you’re a retired burglar. One of those people who open locks with a little bent bit of wire.”
    â€œNever you believe it,” said Sergeant Cockerill. “There’s no lock with a spring inside it worth the name was ever opened with bent wire. That’s a thing you see on the films—it’s not real—” He went away and came back with an ordinary heavy ball and plane hammer.
    â€œPut her up on the window seat where I can get at her,” he said.
    â€œLet me give you a hand,” said Bob. “It’s mighty heavy-up she comes … Yes, what is it, Miss Bellbas?”
    â€œCould you sign this receipt for Mr. Duxford, sir?”
    â€œIn a minute,” said Bob. “Hold her steady.”
    Sergeant Cockerill took a careful sight down his hammer, swung it up, and brought it down fair and square on the circular brass lock.
    IV
    The senses sometimes record events in an illogical order. The first thing that Henry Bohun noticed as he came out of his room was that someone had been sick.
    Then he saw Sergeant Cockerill, who said in his curiously gentle voice: “Look out you don’t tread in it, sir—it’s Miss Bellbas. I’m fetching something to clear it up.”
    Then his ears insisted that someone was screaming; had been screaming for some seconds.
    He pushed past the sergeant and through the door of Bob Horniman’s room. Here his nose took charge. Three years of active service had taught him the sweet, throat-catching smell of corrupted flesh.
    He saw Bob, white to the lips, standing beside his desk, and Miss Cornel, the corners of her mouth drawn into a pucker.
    â€œWhat’s happened?” he said sharply.
    â€œIt’s in that box,” It was Bob who spoke. “We’ve just found him. For God’s sake, someone, stop that girl screaming.”
    Henry went quickly out of the slaughterhouse stench, and found Miss Bellbas sitting on a chair inside the secretaries’ office.
    Most of the other members of the staff seemed to be crowding round her.
    â€œGive her room,” he said with unconscious authority. “Stand back.”
    He placed himself in front of her and gave her a swinging smack on the face with his open palm.
    Miss Bellbas stopped screaming.
    Then she opened her mouth and observed conversationally: “It’s the voice of the stars. You remember what they said. ‘Things will open up surprisingly about the middle of the week.’”

Chapter Four
    â€¦ Wednesday Evening …
A CONTRACT IS ENTERED INTO
    A contract is sometimes described as being uberrimae fidei. This is not a term which has ever received exclusive definition but it signifies that the contract is one of those – a contract of insurance is the commonest example – in which both parties are under an obligation to make the