Melrose, the Chief Constable. The other was a squarely built middle-aged man with a face so singularly devoid of expression as to be quite remarkable.
“Superintendent Battle arrived half an hour ago,” explained George. “He has been round with Inspector Badgworthy, and seen Dr. Cartwright. He now wants a few facts from us.”
They all sat down, after Lord Caterham had greeted Melrose and acknowledged his introduction to Superintendent Battle.
“I need hardly tell you, Battle,” said George, “that this is a case in which we must use the utmost discretion.”
The superintendent nodded in an off-hand manner that rather took Lord Caterham’s fancy.
“That will be all right, Mr. Lomax. But no concealments from us. I understand that the dead gentleman was called Count Stanislaus—at least, that that is the name by which the household knew him. Now was that his real name?”
“It was not.”
“What was his real name?”
“Prince Michael of Herzoslovakia.”
Battle’s eyes opened just a trifle, otherwise he gave no sign. “And what, if I may ask the question, was the purpose of his visit here? Just pleasure?”
“There was a further object, Battle. All this in the strictest confidence, of course.”
“Yes, yes, Mr. Lomax.”
“Colonel Melrose?”
“Of course.”
“Well, then, Prince Michael was here for the express purpose of meeting Mr. Herman Isaacstein. A loan was to be arranged on certain terms.”
“Which were?”
“I do not know the exact details. Indeed, they had not yet been arranged. But in the event of coming to the throne, Prince Michael pledged himself to grant certain oil concessions to those companies in which Mr. Isaacstein is interested. The British Government was prepared to support the claim of Prince Michael to the throne in view of his pronounced British sympathies.”
“Well,” said Superintendent Battle, “I don’t suppose I
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