and order the Phillimore necklace sent down here at once. When did he do that, Eden?”
“Last Thursday morning,” Eden replied.
“See—what did I tell you? Last Thursday morning, when he got back from his grisly midnight trip. They were on him then—they were blackmailing him to the limit. That’s the answer to our puzzle. They’re blackmailing him now. At first Madden was just as eager as they were for the necklace—he wanted to settle the thing and get away. It isn’t pleasant to linger round the spot where you’ve done murder. The past few days his courage has begun to return, he’s temporizing, seeking a way out. I’m a little sorry for him, I really am.” Holley paused. “Well, that’s my idea. What do you think, Charlie? Am I right?”
Chan sat turning Madden’s unfinished letter slowly in his hand.
“Sounds good,” admitted the detective. “However, here and there objections arise.”
“For example?” Holley demanded.
“Madden is big man. Delaney and these others, nobody much. He could announce he killed blackmailer in self-defense.”
“So he could—if Thorn were friendly and would back him up. But the secretary is hostile and might threaten to tell a different story. Besides, remember it isn’t only the killing of Delaney they have against him. There’s the information Delaney has been holding over his head.”
Chan nodded. “So very true. One other fact, and then I cease my brutal faultfinding. Louie, long in confidence of Chinese parrot, is killed. Yet Louie depart for San Francisco on Wednesday morning, twelve hours before
