“Can’t tell you that. But this fellow was supposed to be involved. By the time we knew who he was, he had disappeared.”

“What does any of this have to do with us?” asked Sparks.

“We have ears inside the Palace, Sparks,” said the Brigadier. “We know who hired you. We know there was to be a meeting. Then some unlucky fellow bought it at the rendezvous.”

“Don’t know anything about any of that,” said Sparks.

“On the supposition that this man contacted you later, we decided to search your office yesterday.”

“You did what?” exclaimed Mrs. Bainbridge, rising to her feet.

“Sit down,” he directed her.

She sat, glaring at him with all her might.

“What did you find?” asked Sparks.

“That one desk had a blotter, and one did not.”

“Heavens!” cried Sparks. “Someone stole one of our blotters! Call Scotland Yard!”

“There was a small hole in the surface of that desk. We recovered a trace amount of blood from within that hole. And more blood on one other item.”

“Which other item?” asked Sparks.

“You neglected to clean the dart,” said the Brigadier.

He took the photograph, came around the table, and thrust it in front of her face.

“Is he still alive, Sparks?” he asked.

“I have already told you, sir. I don’t know the man.”

“But the blood—”

“Mine, I expect. I’ve nicked myself playing with darts plenty of times. Bad habit, but just one out of so many.”

“If only I had a shilling for every time I’ve had to bandage her up,” added Mrs. Bainbridge.

“Where are the letters?” asked the Brigadier.

“I don’t have them. Yes, we were supposed to make the exchange at the warehouse, but we found a dead man with no letters, so we got out before anyone could start blaming us. We never saw this man there. Is he the killer, do you think?”

“My chief suspect for that title is you, Sparks.”

“Will you still send flowers to my funeral after they hang me, sir?”

“Not the large arrangement. You’re certain you don’t know where this fellow is?”

“Brigadier, you know me,” said Sparks. “Trust me when I tell you that I haven’t the slightest notion where he is.”

“She’s telling the truth,” said Mrs. Bainbridge. “Neither of us knows where he is. You could inject me with truth serum, and I still wouldn’t be able to tell you. Do you have truth serum? I’ve always wondered what it was like.”

“I think that’s what we were drinking in the Bentley,” said Sparks.

“Oh really? It was rather good. Let’s have some more on the trip home.”

“Carruthers,” called the Brigadier. The man who had met them in the garage appeared at the top of the stairs. “Put these women back in the Bentley and send them home.”

“Yes, sir. This way, ladies.”

“Carruthers?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Remove my whisky from the car before they leave. I’ve wasted enough of it tonight.”

“Yes, sir.”

Carruthers brought the two women back to the garage, where the driver was leaning against the car and smoking.