M. Zeropoulos himself was a short stout little man with beady black eyes. He talked volubly and at great length.

The gentlemen were from the police? He was delighted to see them. Perhaps they would step into his private office.

Yes, he had sold a blowpipe and darts - a South American curio. "You comprehend, gentlemen, me, I sell a little of everything! I have my specialties. Persia is my specialty. M. Dupont - the esteemed M. Dupont - he will answer for me. He himself comes always to see my collection, to see what new purchases I have made, to give his judgment on the genuineness of certain doubtful pieces. What a man!

So learned! Such an eye! Such a feel! But I wander from the point. I have my collection - my valuable collection that all connoisseurs know

-and also I have - Well, frankly, messieurs, let us call it junk! Foreign junk, that is understood; a little bit of everything - from the South Seas, from India, from Japan, from Borneo. No matter! Usually I have no fixed price for these things. If anyone takes an interest, I make my estimate and I ask a price, and naturally I am beaten down and in the end I take only half. And even then - I will admit it - the profit is good!

These articles, I buy them from sailors, usually at a very low price."

M. Zeropoulos took a breath and went on happily, delighted with himself, his importance and the easy flow of his narration.

"This blowpipe and darts, I have had it for a long time - two years perhaps. It was in that tray there, with a cowrie necklace and a red Indian headdress and one or two crude wooden idols and some inferior jade beads. Nobody remarks it, nobody notices it, till there comes this American and asks me what it is."

"An American?" said Fournier sharply.

"Yes, yes, an American - unmistakably an American - not the best type of American either. The kind that knows nothing about anything and just wants a curio to take home. He is of the type that makes the fortune of bead sellers in Egypt - that buys the most preposterous scarabs ever made in Czechoslovakia. Well, very quickly I size him up. I tell him about the habits of certain tribes, the deadly poisons they use. I explain how very rare and unusual it is that anything of this kind comes into the market. He asks the price and I tell him. It is my American price, not quite so high as formerly... Alas? They have had the depression over there!... I wait for him to bargain, but straightaway he pays my price. I am stupefied. It is a pity. I might have asked more! I give him the blowpipe and the darts wrapped up in a parcel and he takes them away. It is finished. But afterwards, when I read in the paper of this astounding murder, I wonder - yes, I wonder very much. And I communicate with the police."