they were the three books that Milburgh bought yesterday?"

"The three ledgers?"

Whiteside nodded.

"But why on earth should he want to put in three new ledgers--they were
new, weren't they? That doesn't seem to me to be a very intelligent
suggestion. And yet----"

He jumped up, almost upsetting the table in his excitement.

"Quick, Whiteside! Get a cab while I settle the bill," he said.

"Where are you going?"

"Hurry up and get the cab!" said Tarling, and when he had rejoined his
companion outside, and the taxi was bowling along the Thames Embankment:
"I'm going to St. Mary Axe."

"So I gathered from your directions to the cabman," said Whiteside. "But
why St. Mary Axe at this time of the afternoon? The very respectable
Dashwood and Solomon will not be glad to see you until to-morrow."

"I'm going to see these books," said Tarling, "the books which Milburgh
sent to the accountants this morning."

"What do you expect to find?"

"I'll tell you later," was Tarling's reply. He looked at his watch. "They
won't be closed yet, thank heaven!"

The taxi was held up at the juncture of the Embankment and Blackfriars
Bridge, and was held up again for a different reason in Queen Victoria
Street. Suddenly there was a clang-clang of gongs, and all traffic drew
to one side to allow the passage of a flying motor fire-engine. Another
and another followed in succession.

"A big fire," said Whiteside. "Or it may be a little one, because they
get very panicky in the City, and they'll put in a divisional call for a
smoking chimney!"

The cab moved on, and had crossed Cannon Street, when it was again held
up by another roaring motor, this time bearing a fire escape.

"Let's get out of the cab; we'll walk," said Tarling.

They jumped out, and Whiteside paid the driver.

"This way," said Tarling. "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!"

CHAPTER XXII

THE HEAVY