"I'm going to lose my job over this." The other looked troubled.
"You don't seriously mean that." "Not exactly," smiled T.X., "but I don't think the Chief is very pleased with me just now.

You see I have butted into this business without any authority--it isn't exactly in my department.

But you have not given me your theory about the candles." "I have no theory to offer," said the other, folding up his serviette; "the candles suggest a typical Albanian murder.

I do not say that it was so, I merely say that by their presence they suggest a crime of this character." With this T.X.had to be content.
If it were not his business to interest himself in commonplace murder--though this hardly fitted such a description--it was part of the peculiar function which his department exercised to restore to Lady Bartholomew a certain very elaborate snuff-box which he discovered in the safe.
Letters had been found amongst his papers which made clear the part which Kara had played.

Though he had not been a vulgar blackmailer he had retained his hold, not only upon this particular property of Lady Bartholomew, but upon certain other articles which were discovered, with no other object, apparently, than to compel influence from quarters likely to be of assistance to him in his schemes.
The inquest on the murdered man which the Assistant Commissioner attended produced nothing in the shape of evidence and the coroner's verdict of "murder against some person or persons unknown" was only to be expected.
T.X.spent a very busy and a very tiring week tracing elusive clues which led him nowhere.