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should have to wait in the lane outside until she came in, and that might set the neighbours talking.”
    â€œWell, I’ll go and see whether I can find her, if you’ll stop here.”
    The search was successful; footsteps were heard again upon the stairs and Miss Susie Duke bustled in, dressed in her best walking-suit with its rabbit-skin necklet and her latest hat. She nodded to him with a smile; her last experience with detectives having been that they were easy to bluff.
    â€œWe’ve called about that drive you took in your brother’s lorry on the 29th of last month, Miss Duke—the time you took it into Tavistock. Never mind what you told us before; people are apt to make mistakes when they are first questioned by police officers. Now that you’ve had time to think things over I’m sure you’ll see that it’s best to tell the truth,” said Richardson.
    â€œI don’t remember what I told you last time.”
    â€œI’m sure you don’t, and I’m sure that you don’t want Dick Pengelly to get into worse trouble than he’s in already for driving a car without a licence.”
    To Richardson’s surprise the girl changed colour and seemed about to burst into tears. “I ought to tell you, my dear,” he said, “that we’ve seen Dick Pengelly and that he’s made a clean breast of it—that he drove the lorry without a licence with you sitting at his side; that you took the road to Tavistock through Sandiland. He made a written statement which I have here and I want you to do the same; then the case of driving without a licence will be quite cleared up.”
    â€œWhere is he?”
    â€œOh, he’s all right. He’s got a job as a smith’s striker in Rowe’s Quarry near Tavistock.”
    The girl seemed to be immensely relieved by this intelligence. “I didn’t want him to get into trouble on my account,” she faltered. “I ought not to have let him drive.”
    â€œIf the county police prosecute him for driving without a licence it’s not a very serious offence, and as he said, he can easily pay the fine out of his wages. Now, about this statement of yours; it can be quite short. I’ll dictate it for you if you like.” Richardson turned back the tablecloth and opened his attaché-case to get out writing materials. “Now take this chair, Miss Duke, and don’t worry any more about it.”
    The girl hesitated; it was one thing to use her tongue, but quite another to commit words to paper. “I’d sooner not write anything. I’m quite ready to answer your questions, but not to stick things down on paper.”
    â€œThat’s a pity,” said Richardson with a sigh, beginning to return paper and ink to his writing-case. “I thought you would have been glad to help Pengelly.”
    â€œHow would my statement help him?”
    â€œWell, by confirming what he told me. But of course if you won’t, you won’t, and for all I know to the contrary the police may bring other charges against him—far more serious charges.”
    The girl moved to the chair. “What do you want me to write?”
    â€œOnly a few words which I’ll dictate to you if you like. ‘I, Susan Duke, feel it my duty to admit that on September 29 last, having business to do in Tavistock, I allowed Richard Pengelly to drive my brother’s lorry into Tavistock though he had no driving-licence, and I went with him.’ Then sign it. You see, it’s nothing very dreadful.”
    The girl took up the pen, saying, “Go ahead then.” She wrote rapidly and signed her name with a flourish.

Chapter Six
    R ICHARDSON picked up the statement and examined it. The word “business” was written “bisness” just as it was in the letter to the Commissioner; the handwriting, too, was obviously the same as in both anonymous letters.
    â€œI’ve seen