“You mean—? You think—? You know the story, of course—ah, yes, I can see you do. I was not in office, of course, at the time, but I heard the whole story from the late Lord Caterham. An unparalleled catastrophe.”
“The Koh-i-Noor,” said Battle reflectively.
“Hush, Battle!” George glanced suspiciously round him. “I beg of you, mention no names. Much better not. If you must speak of it, call it the K. ”
The superintendent looked wooden again.
“You don’t connect King Victor with this crime, do you, Battle?”
“It’s just a possibility, that’s all. If you’ll cast your mind back, sir, you’ll remember that there were four places where a—er—certain royal visitor might have concealed the jewel. Chimneys was one of them. King Victor was arrested in Paris three days after the—disappearance, if I may call it that, of the K. It was always hoped that he would some day lead us to the jewel.”
“But Chimneys has been ransacked and overhauled a dozen times.”
“Yes,” said Battle sapiently. “But it’s never much good looking when you don’t know where to look. Only suppose now, that this King Victor came here to look for the thing, was surprised by Prince Michael, and shot him.”
“It’s possible,” said George. “A most likely solution of the crime.”
“I wouldn’t go as far as that. It’s possible, but not much more.”
“Why is that?”
“Because King Victor has never been known to take a life,” said Battle seriously.