“Yes,” he said, nodding at it. “Quite a work of art. There can’t be many of them about.”

It was indeed a beautiful object. A narrow, tapering blade, and a hilt of elaborately intertwined metals of curious and careful workmanship. He touched the blade gingerly with his finger, testing its sharpness, and made an appreciative grimace.

“Lord, what an edge,” he exclaimed. “A child could drive that into a man⁠—as easy as cutting butter. A dangerous sort of toy to have about.”

“May I examine the body properly now?” I asked.

He nodded. “Go ahead.”

I made a thorough examination.

“Well?” said the inspector, when I had finished.