For whereas the room of Inspector Dunbar was
practically unfurnished, that of his superior was so filled with
tables, cupboards, desks, bureaux, files, telephones, bookshelves
and stacks of documents that one only discovered the Assistant
Commissioner sunk deep in a padded armchair and a cloud of tobacco
smoke by dint of close scrutiny. The Assistant Commissioner was small,
sallow and satanic. His black moustache was very black and his eyes
were of so dark a brown as to appear black also. When he smiled he
revealed a row of very large white teeth, and his smile was correctly
Mephistophelean. He smoked a hundred and twenty Egyptian cigarettes
per diem, and the first and second fingers of either hand were
coffee-coloured.
"Good-evening, Inspector," he said courteously. "You come at an
opportune moment." He lighted a fresh cigarette. "I was detained here
unusually late to-night or this news would not have reached us till
the morning." He laid his finger upon a yellow form. "There is an
unpleasant development in 'The Scorpion' case."
"So I gather, sir. That is what brought me back to the Yard."
The Assistant Commissioner glanced up sharply.
"What brought you back to the Yard?" he asked.
"The news about Max."
The assistant Commissioner leaned back in his chair. "Might I ask,
Inspector," he said, "what news you have learned and how you have
learned it?"
Dunbar stared uncomprehendingly.
"Sowerby 'phoned me about half an hour ago, sir.
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