Spider's Web by Agatha Christie Page A

him.
    “I'm afraid we can't go into that,” the Inspector replied. He turned to Jeremy and Hugo, and added, “There was, however, one rather curious circumstance. There was an unfinished letter on Mr. Sellon's desk, in which he mentioned that he'd come into possession of something which he described as an unparalleled rarity, which he would...” Here the Inspector paused, and turned back to Sir Rowland before continuing, “... would guarantee wasn't a forgery, and he was asking fourteen thousand pounds for it.”
    Sir Rowland looked thoughtful. “Fourteen thousand pounds,” he murmured. In a louder voice he continued, “Yes, that's a lot of money indeed. Now, I wonder what it could be? Jewellery, I suppose, but the word 'forgery' suggests – I don't know, a picture, perhaps?”
    Jeremy continued to munch at his sandwiches as the Inspector replied, “Yes, perhaps. There was nothing in the shop worth such a large sum of money. The insurance inventory made that clear. Mr. Sellon's partner was a woman who has a business of her own in London, and she wrote and said she couldn't give us any help or information.”
    Sir Rowland nodded his head slowly. “So he might have been murdered, and the article, whatever it was, stolen,” he suggested.
    “It's quite possible, sir,” the Inspector agreed, “but again, the would-be thief may not have been able to find it.”
    “Now, why do you think that?” Sir Rowland asked.
    “Because,” the Inspector replied, “the shop has been broken into twice since then. Broken into and ransacked.”
    Clarissa looked puzzled. “Why are you telling us all this, Inspector?” she wanted to know.
    “Because, Mrs. Hailsham-Brown,” said the Inspector, turning to her, “it's occurred to me that whatever was hidden away by Mr. Sellon may have been hidden here in this house, and not at his shop in Maidstone. That's why I asked you if anything peculiar had come to your notice.”
    Holding up a hand as though she had suddenly remembered, Clarissa said excitedly, “Somebody rang up only today and asked to speak to me, and when I came to the phone, whoever it was had just hung up. In a way, that's rather odd, isn't it?” She turned to Jeremy, adding, “Oh, yes, of course. You know, that man who came the other day and wanted to buy things – a horsy sort of man in a check suit. He wanted to buy that desk.”
    The Inspector crossed the room to look at the desk. “This one here?” he asked.
    “Yes,” Clarissa replied. “I told him, of course, that it wasn't ours to sell, but he didn't seem to believe me. He offered me a large sum, far more than it's worth.”
    “That's very interesting,” the Inspector commented as he studied the desk. “These things often have a secret drawer, you know.”
    “Yes, this one has,” Clarissa told him. “But there was nothing very exciting in it. Only some old autographs.”
    The Inspector looked interested. “Old autographs can be immensely valuable, I understand,” he said. “Whose were they?”
    “I can assure you, Inspector,” Sir Rowland informed him, “that these weren't anything rare enough to be worth more than a pound or two.”
    The door to the hall opened, and the Constable entered, carrying a small booklet and a pair of gloves.
    “Yes, Jones? What is it?” the Inspector asked him.
    “I've examined the car, sir,” Constable Jones replied.
    “Just a pair of gloves in the driving seat. But I found this registration book in the side pocket.” He handed the book to the Inspector, and Clarissa exchanged a smile with Jeremy as they heard the Constable's strong Welsh accent.
    The Inspector examined the registration book. “Oliver Costello, twenty-seven Morgan Mansions, London SW3,” he read aloud. Then, turning to Clarissa, he asked sharply, “Has a man called Costello been here today?”

Spider's Web

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    THE INSPECTOR'S question caused the four friends to cast guiltily furtive glances at one another. Clarissa and Sir