“Carry on,” said Moss with savage glee, experiencing considerable pleasure in being thus able to turn the tables on the famous detective.

“Miss Arnell is a very beautiful young lady, and an heiress to boot,” snapped Shelley taking this conversational hurdle in his stride! “Also her fiancé is in prison—or was, until he was released early this evening.”

“Are you suggesting that I was making up to Miss Arnell with the idea of marrying her?” shouted Moss.

“I was suggesting nothing,” said Shelley, whose little experiment had succeeded. Moss was crimson with rage at the mere suggestion. This was no assumed temper; and Shelley felt now fairly confident that the young Jew was completely innocent of criminal intent. The detective had put this offensive suggestion with the idea of seeing the reaction of his companion, for he felt sure that a guilty man would either have treated the idea as something merely to be smiled or sniggered at, or else as a serious idea which could be amicably discussed. A completely innocent man would be almost certain to react as Moss had done.

“Well,” Moss stormed at him, “if you didn’t suggest that, what the hell were you getting at, anyway? I tell you, you fellows think that you can get away with anything when you get people in here. Well, you can’t as far as I’m concerned; and the sooner you get to know that the better it will be for you, and for all concerned.”

“Now, that’s all right, Mr. Moss,” Shelley murmured, smoothing him down as best he could. “Please forget that anything of the sort was ever said. I quite see that it was impossible that you could have done, to have contemplated doing, anything of the sort.”

“That’s all right then,” murmured Moss in slightly mollified tones.

“Good,” remarked Shelley. “But what I want to know, Mr. Moss, is this: who could have done it? After all, even though he is a criminal, who has, for some unknown reason, kidnapped Miss Arnell, he must be known to you personally in some way.”

“Why do you think that?”

“That letter,” Shelley pointed out. “It shows a pretty considerable knowledge of your habits, of your job, and of what you do. After all, one must know you fairly well to be aware that you can fish up a second-hand car of a particular make, year, and price. Or don’t you think so?”

Moss considered this for a few moments. “I don’t know,” he said at length. “After all, I am pretty well known in the world of second-hand cars, you know. I must have dealings with a score of people a month—or more, even. Some months I might have dealings with as many as fifty people, and each of those fifty would have some friends to whom they’d mention my name. You know—‘Got a decent second-hand car from a chap called Moss’—that sort of thing.”