"We'll make a short cut." Whiteside had stopped to speak to a policeman.
"Where's the fire, constable ?" he asked.
"St.Mary Axe, sir," was the policeman's reply.

"A big firm of chartered accountants--Dashwood and Solomon.

You know them, sir?
I'm told the place is blazing from cellar to garret." Tarling showed his teeth in an unamused grin as the words came to him.
"And all the proof of Milburgh's guilt gone up in smoke, eh ?" he said.

"I think I know what those books contained--a little clockwork detonator and a few pounds of thermite to burn up all the clues to the Daffodil Murder!".