“Good evening. Miss Ackroyd,” he said civilly. “We’re afraid there’s been an attempt at robbery, and we want you to help us. What’s this room⁠—the billiard room? Come in here and sit down.”

Flora sat down composedly on the wide divan which ran the length of the wall, and looked up at the inspector.

“I don’t quite understand. What has been stolen? What do you want me to tell you?”

“It’s just this, Miss Ackroyd. Parker here says you came out of your uncle’s study at about a quarter to ten. Is that right?”

“Quite right. I had been to say goodnight to him.”

“And the time is correct?”

“Well, it must have been about then. I can’t say exactly. It might have been later.”

“Was your uncle alone, or was there anyone with him?”