Who saw him?

James is surely a beautiful, braying ass," said Lord Edward. "He's like a detective in a novel. Well, I don't have any idea about Hans, but I have seen the body, and I should say the idea was preposterous upon the face of it. What do you think of the brandy?"

"Unbelievable, Wimsey—sort of thing makes one believe in heaven. But I want your yarn."

"Do you mind if Bulter hears it, too? Invaluable man, Bulter—also pretty talented fellow with a camera. And the odd thing is, he's always on the spot when I want my bath or my boots. I don't know when he develops such fabulous things—I think he does them in his sleep. Bulter!"

"Yes, my lord."

"Stop messing about in there, and get yourself the proper things to drink and come join the merry discussion."

"Offcourse, my lord."

"Mr. Lio Lee has a new trick: The Vanishing Financier. Absolutely no deception. Hey, presto, pass! and where is he? Will some gentleman from the audience kindly step upon the platform and inspect the cabinet? Thank you, sir. The quickness of the 'and deceives the heye."

"I'm afraid mine isn't much of a story," said Lee. "It's simply one of those simple things that offer no handle. Sir Smith Hans dined last night with three friends at the Ritze. After having the dinner, all the friends went to the theatre. He refused to go with them on account of a prior appointment, you see. I haven't yet been able to trace, whom he was appointmented to meet, but anyways, he returned home to his house—9a, Park Lane—at twelve o'clock."

"How do you know? Who saw him?"