He took out his knife, opened the pipe cleaner, and pressed the narrow blade into the aperture.

There was a click and two doors, ludicrously like the doors which deaden the volume of gramophone music, flew open.
Whiteside put in his hand and pulled something out.
"Books," he said disappointedly.

Then, brightening up.

"They are diaries; I wonder if the beggar kept a diary ?" He piled the little volumes on the bed and Tarling took one and turned the leaves.
"Thornton Lyne's diary," he said.

"This may be useful." One of the volumes was locked.